


Left Out

by fiction_enthusiast_1990



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: A new Arc begins from Chap 12, Actions and Adventures, Banana Skin as Fleshlight (Chapter 20), Bondage (Chapter 20), Consensual Sex, Dark Turtles being creepy, Donnie wants in on the actions, Fight Scenes, Light Bondage (Chapter 19), Lots of Backstabbing, M/M, Masturbation, My images of the Dark Turtles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Raph is a tease, Self-Doubt, Sexual Content, Spy Cam, There is indeed a story plot here, Turtle Foursome, Turtle Threesome (initially), Turtles are not related by blood, With their own names and personalities, tcest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:39:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 100,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4234167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiction_enthusiast_1990/pseuds/fiction_enthusiast_1990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>_Arc 1 (Chapter 1 - 11):The relationships among the turtles have grown to be closer after Donnie's revelation that they are not bound by blood. As three turtles in the lair act on their instincts, one is left to wallow in the darkness.<br/>_Arc 2 (Chapter 12 - ?): While the relationships between the turtles take a turn for the better, everything else outside the lair starts to spiral out of control as Stockman's desire to regain his lost humanity gives birth to new and mysterious evils - ones that even the mad scientist himself cannot fully control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brilliance and Shadows

Left Out  
Chapter 1: Brilliance and Shadows

The inside of the dimly lit laboratory was eerily silent, perhaps even more so than usual, as this veil of stillness that was currently draping over the place was thick and almost suffocating, too quiet even in the standards of the only occupant inside. Only the occasional sounds of keys being pressed and some other muffed noises coming from the various screens installed inside served as intervention, but other than that, the place was almost completely devoid of all sounds and signs of life. 

And inside the enclosed and desolate darkness, Donatello was, as usual, hard at work with the upgrade of the lair’s security. His nimble fingers moves through the delicate pieces of equipments he was holding with unfathomable precision and precaution as they assembled the tiny components together, but they were mostly moving on autopilot, as the technician’s mind was currently elsewhere, kept busy by other unrelated thoughts and emotions. 

Donatello was experiencing a massive tidal wave of frustration so unlike anything he had ever felt before wash over him, consume him and seemingly drown under everything. And such a formidable wave would have easily swallowed him whole had it not been for the breathing and meditating techniques that Master Splinter had taught him and his other siblings. Thus, with deep and slow intakes and release of breath in a rhythmic fashion, the purple-clad turtle closed his eyes and emptied his ever-working mind, allowing the void inside his brain to momentarily cleanse his thoughts of all troubles and worries, including the ones he had been developing as of late.

For Donatello, almost everything single thing he did - every second of the seemingly endless hours spent inside the cold, tranquil confines of his laboratory, every creation built to aid the turtles’ war against their enemies, every sweat he dropped during the arduous training inside the dojo under Master Splinter’s strict supervision and every tiny and delicate piece of machineries that he had for so long dedicated himself to crafting and perfecting - everything was all for the sake of his clan’s survival and comforts. The occasions whereby the silent and reserved turtle would go out of his way to actually reward himself with a personal project that had nothing to do with the family were far and few in between, and even with only three fingers on each mutated hand, Donatello was certain he could count all of them from his memory alone. He, like the rest of his family members, was dedicated and held the good of the clan and everyone associated with it as their first and foremost, if not sacred, priority, and thus, with a such an objective in mind, in silence each of them had suffered, and in silence each of the individuals had been forced to sacrifice something for the sake of the collective, and none of the five sewer-dwelling mutants would outwardly mention that which they had forfeited to the others, not even Raphael, whose temperaments were unrivalled and could only be matched by his brute strength in combat. 

For Donatello, perhaps the price to pay for his devoted servitude to the ninja clan was, in his opinion, his freedom of exploration– the freedom that would allow him to indulge himself in the fields of various branches of science and aspects of life purely for the sake of satisfying his own insatiable thirst for knowledge, for understanding the outer and inner workings of everything in existence. Times and times over, his brilliance that enabled the turtle to absorb all forms of knowledge, even that of extraterrestrial origins, had demonstrated to be an exceptionally valuable asset to the family of mutant ninja, providing assistance both in their struggles against their various enemies as well as in their daily lives. His gadgets proved helpful, as were his abilities as an infiltrator, both in the real world and in the virtual world. The more enemies they faced, the more hours Don would lock himself in his lab to develop countermeasures against each and every threat that would come.

And naturally, Donatello was proud. He was utterly and decisively proud of everything that he could create, every and all contraptions that he could craft with his wits and hands to offer his clan, to aid them in their countless endeavors and to assist them in way others could not even begin to fathom. All of his accomplishments solidified his position as a son and a brother within the ninja clan filled with honorable traditions and beliefs, and yet, at this current moment, none of that pride was present inside the resident genius.  
Donatello let out another audible sigh and put down the microchip that he had been working so painstakingly on – a component that would further reinforce the lair’s security and ward off outside invasions in times of need. Tenderly and gently, the brilliant turtle placed the small object down on his worktable and leaned back against his chair, his eyes staring at the ceiling for a while. 

“Gosh…Why me…” said the turtle at last in a resigned and tired voice, momentarily closing his eyes and listening to the sounds coming from the screen in front of him.  
The noises that his other brothers were currently making inside the sealed off and private dojo, now amplified greatly in his enhanced sense of hearing, now penetrated into his eardrums, taunting him, teasing him, mocking him and yet at the same time, exciting him and shaming him.

His mind then suddenly wandered back to the days his three brothers had come to his lab asking for his help to determine if any of them were bound by blood. Though puzzled, he had never given it much of a thought and complied to the others’ seemingly whimsical request. However, his suspicions began to grow stronger on the day he revealed that none of them were in fact related by blood. The happy and ecstatic expressions that simultaneously formed on the other three turtles’ faces surprised and puzzled him greatly, for that was not what he had expected. 

“They say blood is thicker than water,” his mind then remembered what Leo had said that same day, “But it is not the only way to determine the tightness of a clan or the bond shared by family. We are, and will always be bound to one another under one roof, blood or not.” 

And Donatello had left the matter at that and focused on other more important issues in his opinion. However, it was apparent that after that day, the interactions among the three turtles began to change, not dramatically, but barely noticeably. 

And it would be weeks until Don found out the real reason behind the odd request, but it was one he honestly had not expected. 

Another five minutes had come to pass until Donatello would allow his chocolate-brown eyes to open again, the images of memories fading back into his mind as reality replaced them. He would then direct them toward the small screen on the left and watched his brothers play around with one another. 

And his heart dropped even more as he watched his brothers having their intimate moment with each other, lost in their own private world and completely oblivious to the eyes watching them from afar. 

In the middle, Michelangelo was bended over, both hands firmly placed on the ground, and from what Don’s tiny second-hand spy cam could capture, the lone turtle in the lab could see that his youngest clan member’s fingers were curled into tight, trembling fists, and the expression worn by the nunchuck-wielding ninja at that moment was one of pure bliss. 

His mouth was agape, open wide as loud and intoxicating moans of ecstasy were released. A line of shimmering saliva was trailing at the corner of his mouth, and yet, in his moment of pleasure, the turtle did nothing to wipe it away. Even though Donatello’s patched-up spy camera could not record all the sounds of the actions, he could still hear them talking dirty to one another, particularly Raph, provoking each other sensually with each syllable that left their mouths and driving each other to the point where all would be completely overcome by untold pleasure with their actions.

“…Leo…Faster…” Donatello could hear his only younger brother gasp incoherently as his back took the full length of the oldest ninja’s manhood inside. At each thrust, Michelangelo’s body twitched visibly, feeling the friction that attacked his insides. 

At some points, Leonardo’s relentless assaults would hit the submissive one’s prostrate, eliciting a sound filled with the greatest of pleasure. And at those times, Michelangelo’s body would straighten rigidly, and tears would leak out from his all so blue and innocent orbs, painting a picture so beautiful and so breathtaking that Donatello wished he could be a part of. 

“…Argh…Near…” the high-pitched voice laced with pleasure belonging to the youngest ninja entered Donatello’s hearing again, and it would soon be accompanied by a loud and moan as the orange-clad turtle released his seeds onto the mats of the dojo. 

“Argh…Almost…Coming…” Leonardo’s low and musky voice grunted through the speaker as he delivered one final thrust inside the other’s entrance. 

Donatello could see his blue-clad brother arch his back and knock his head backward, a cry so unlike anything Donatello had ever heard from the cool and balanced ninja was heard, echoing throughout the enclosed space of the dojo and reaching his spy cam. Soon, both turtles let out pants as they experienced the aftermath of their intimate acts and Leonardo, with much reluctance, pulled away from the panting turtle lying on his plastron. 

“…Amazing…” said Leonardo’s voice, a mix of a gasp and whisper. 

“…My turn then…” said Raphael’s gruff and accented voice this time as the biggest turtle approached Michelangelo’s form and raised him up, not letting the other rest up after Leonardo’s round. “Hold him up,” said the red-masked ninja as he pushed Michelangelo’s body toward Leonardo, who wasted no time at all sliding his arms under the nunchuck user’s armpits to haul the tired turtle up to a proper kneeling position and to prevent escape. 

Not that Michelangelo would be able to after all of his stamina had been sapped away from him.

Donatello then saw Leonardo lean his head closer into Michelangelo’s own and saw his lips move, whispering sweet something arousing into the trapped turtle’s hearing before one of the blue-clad ninja’s hands snaked its way on Michelangelo’s face and cover his eyes, shielding those needy and moist orbs of sapphire blue from Donatello’s view. The act seemed to achieve the desirable effect of further arousing Michelangelo. The loss of sight meant the enhancement of other senses, and almost instantly, Mikey’s breathing grew heavy, and his manhood grew semi-hard again, twitching visibly in anticipation. The youngest turtle’s mouth moved, but unfortunately, no words were captured by the camera, but from what Donatello could see from the movements of his lips, a desperate begging would not be so far off the mark. 

“Alright,” Raph said as he wetted his lips and leaned down, lightly licking the hard penis in front of him and pleased to hear the delighted moan that escaped the trapped ninja’s throat. After a few more teasing licks at the tip, Raph then got up and ready for his round with the immobile ninja. Subsequently, the red-masked turtle’s form got in front of the camera, effectively obscuring the rest of the actions from the prying eyes from above with his shell.

It was then that Donatello released a long, audible sigh and leaned back against his chair once more. Though his eyes could not see, he could still pick up the noises of Michelangelo’s moans and whimpers as Raphael worked his magic, and with his ever active imagination, Donatello closed his brown orbs and allowed his brain to imagine the rest of the others’ activities.

“Urgh…Oh…Gosh…That’s…Ahh…” Donatello straightened his back and began to slide one hand down his plastron, making sure to move as slowly and as sensually as possible. The hand would then skip to one of the spread thighs, gently running circles and massaging the tense muscles there, further causing the genius’ mind to go numb as a needy heat radiated from his nether region. Though, he still refrained from touching that particular area for the moment and continued to run his hand along his thigh.  
“How do you like that?” Raphael’s voice blared through the speaker, lust and affection lacing the tone, and for a moment, Donatello thought that voice was calling out to him, causing him to release yet another involuntary whimper. 

With his free hand, the purple-masked turtle went on with his solo play by pinching his own tail. With his eyes shut tight, the feeling of his tail being touched, even from his own doing, was incredible, as evidenced by the uncharacteristically high-pitched moan that escaped his throat. 

“Ahh…Oh my…Feels good…” Donatello, eye closed still, continued to get teased by the sounds of Michelangelo’s noisy moans coming from the screen. His actions, his brothers’ voices along with his own vivid imaginations of their private sessions continued to arouse Don, and soon, the need to be touched in that particular area between his legs soon grew to be exponentially stronger to the point of being unbearable, and Don knew he could no longer ignore it.

“Yes…More…Oh…Argh!” Mikey’s voice continued to haunt Don’s thoughts, and soon, all restraints were forgotten, and all control lost, defeated and replaced by only desires. Then, moving the hand on his thigh toward his cloaca and let his penis free from its constraint. The moment it met the cool air inside the lab, Donatello’s breath hitched before it subsided back to pants and gasps. 

“Oh…yes…that’s the spot!” the solo ninja heard Michelangelo’s voice again, and this time, he opened his eyes to look at the screen. To his mirth, Raphael had changed position at some point, and this time, Michelangelo was splayed out on his shell against the mat, both of his hand securely held in place by Leonardo’s hands on his wrists, preventing escape. 

Don then watched intently, with no small amount of excitement and anticipation in his own eyes, as Raph, with a devious smile upon his visage, leaned down and trailed his wet tongue against Mikey’s plastron, leaving behind strings of saliva as proof of his exploration of the younger’s body, while one of his hand reached for Mikey’s exposed and throbbing penis, which seemed to be screaming out to the dominator for some much-needed attention. 

The tongue continued to slide forward along the hard and flat surface at a slow, almost frustratingly sluggish pace, and Don watched with interest and his own hand began to touch to base of his own throbbing manhood at the exact moment Raph did the same to Mikey’s. 

The effect of the touch was instantaneous, as Don’s breath hitched and his head bobbed backward. His organ had become much more sensitive from all the noises and plays his brothers were doing, and it actually surprised Don how much gratification a simple touch could bring about such a spastic effect in his current state of mind.  
“Oh my gosh…Ahh, that…feels good…Oh, my…” he whimpered breathlessly and began moving his tight grip up and down his shaft, perfectly mimicking and matching pace with Raph’s hand on the screen. 

“How do you like that?” asked the red-masked ninja with a smirk, his eyes boring straight into Mikey’s teary orbs, further arousing and at the same time captivating the other’s attention as well. However, in his current state of mind, so far gone to bliss, Mikey could not offer anything more than nonsensical moans and pathetic whimpers in reply, an act that only seemed to encourage Raphael even more with his sensual advance.

“Tell me, Mike,” Don heard his gruff voice say once more as his fingers, once again copying exactly what Raph was doing to Mikey, wrapped harder against his penis and went on with the rhythmic up and down motions. Mikey began to swirm underneath the more muscular turtle’s form, yet his efforts achieved nothing due to the strong arms of Leo pinning him down. 

Leonardo chose that moment to lean down and placed another passionate kiss against the youngest’s open and inviting mouth, silencing his feeble and half-hearted protests and Raph’s hand picked up the speed. With two older and more experienced turtles taking care of him, Mikey’s mind was forfeit to the plethora of feelings he was being subjected to, and though the scene excited Don enough to make him act on his own urges as he was doing, he could not help a tinge of envy inside him as he continued to watch.

Breaking apart for a much-needed moment to catch their breath, Leo’s tongue then danced around Mikey’s exposed skin under his jaw, sending shivers running up and down the pinned turtle’s body as the wet appendage crossed his hot and sensitive flesh. At the same time, Raph continued to play with Mikey’s erect penis, switching from pumping the organ to repeatedly rubbing his palm against the exposed tip, using Mikey’s own pre-cum to drive him to the brink of ecstasy. The act alone caused Mikey’s hips to buckle and head knocked back out of pure instinct, a loud cry escaping his mouth, which was soon to be cut off and reduced to muffed cries by Leo’s dancing tongue inside his mouth once again.

Donatello’s breathing pace, unbeknownst to himself, began to become shorter and more erractic as he watched his fellow clan members mess around to their hearts’ contents, unaware of the fourth’s watchful eyes. At the same time, his own hand continued to wrap more tightly around his own penis, pumping it with more fervor as if the hand itself possessed a mind of its own. Gasps and pants and moans and whimpers and growls and grunts would, in rapid succession, come out of Don’s agape mouth as he played with himself in front of the screen. 

And before long, the main event came at last. Raph pushed Mikey’s feet up and reached out for a bottle of lube laying nearby, coating his own fingers for what was about to come next. Then, without warning, the red-masked turtle inserted one finger inside Mikey’s hole, causing the turtle to go stiff under him. However, any screams that would have been elicited had been effectively silenced by Leo, who continued to dominate Mikey’s other entrance as Raph helped himself. 

Then, one finger turned into two, and after a while, three, and Donatello could see that Mikey already had enough, and so did he. Wetting his own fingers with his saliva, Don, too, copied the treatment that Raph was giving the youngest of the ninja clan, pleasuring himself with all of his free digits while still maintaining the rhythm on his own penis.  
“Here I come,” Raph’s voice penetrated his cloudy mind, and with that, Donnie’s hand increased in speed. Then, as promised, Raph retracted his fingers and roughly shoved his hard member inside Mikey’s prepped hole, and immediately, the effect was felt as the pinned turtle’s back arch and his toes curled up as the shot of pain and pleasure divided sweep through his being. At first, only the tip went in, but as the seconds passed, more and more of Raph’s penis disappeared inside Mikey’s entrance until everything went inside. 

Though the submissive turtle’s voice continued to be silenced by Leo’s skillful tongue exploring every nook and cranny inside his mouth, Don could still imagine the feelings that the youngest must be feeling at that moment. 

And though Don knew not of such a thing, he wished to know of it and thrust his own fingers deep inside his own entrance. Never before had he taken such a bold move like this, but now, it seemed like all forms of control and self restraint was lost to his own growing desires and fantasy with the others – the one that he considered himself not to be a part of as that privilege was forfeited and greatly overshadowed by his tremendous yet vital responsibilities as the lair’s only active technician.

The same post he had come to both love for the place it had helped him establish himself inside the small family and hate for the how he could not spend with the others in times such as this. 

“Oh…Ah…That’s…Oh my…Ahh…” Donnie could no longer think straight anymore as he continued to stroke his penis, once again keeping pace with Raph’s simultaneous thrusting against Mikey’s hole and stroking said turtle’s shaft at the same time. 

“Here I come!” Raph shouted, and soon, Don saw a stream of milky white shot out from Mikey’s throbbing member, the sticky substance falling on his chest and face when it landed. 

At the exact same time, the genius’ manhood released the same stream, causing him to cry out loudly inside the soundproofed lab. Two more streams would shoot up from his penis before the climax came to pass. As a wave of exhaustion washed over him, Donatello’s head fell on the hard surface of his worktable and short breaths came out of his mouth, his entire body shining and wet with numerous beads of his own perspiration running down the lean muscles of his neck and limbs. 

“That…” he gasped out to himself as he experienced the aftermath of his own solo play, “That was…amazing…” he finished and looked up at the screen, only to see that the others, too, had fallen to the mat, reduced to a heap of sweaty and breathless turtles, looking as though they had just been subjected to the most intense workout sessions of their lives. 

“…good ‘cause Don ain’t here…” Donatello suddenly heard Raph’s voice get captured by the second-hand speaker of his camera, and his voice was noticeably much mellower than the aggressive yet seductive tone he had been using. And as soon as those words reached Don, an expression that could be best described as a clumsy fusion between a grimace and a wince formed on his face.

And to his horror, he saw that both Michelangelo and Leonardo nod their heads in agreement with Raph’s statement that him not being there was a good thing. 

“…Yeah…” Mikey spoke up, “…Donnie…sucks…” 

And then, they continued to speak the same words that Don had heard times and times again, behind his back and never straight to his face. In his presence, the three terrapins would act normal, hanging out and playing games with each other and trying their best to include him in their often extremely rowdy activities. And yet, the moment he was out of their sight, they would immediately move into an empty space where they thought his spy cams were not watching and beginning to engage in acts of intimacy with one another, thinking that he would not be able to learn of their overly intimate doings.

What they did not know, however, was the fact that Don had learned of everything they had been doing without him – how they would spend hours and hours making out on their breaks and how they would say the same words that his presence was not welcome at the end of each session. 

Or at least, part of it from what his badly patched-up camera could manage to capture. 

With a sigh, Don then reached out for the screen and turned it off before sinking back into his chair, feeling even worse than before. 

“I suppose that’s the price that I have to pay for my brilliance,” he muttered as his gaze fixed on the ceiling above again, “…To live in the very same shadows that it casts.”  
And Don would remain stationary like that for a while longer before he cleaned himself up inside a bathroom installed within the lab and, reluctantly, got back to his original job of upgrading the security systems.

Alone…


	2. Untold Secrets

Left Out  
Chapter 2: Untold Secrets

At the same time Donatello was hiding inside the technological haven, Michelangelo, Raphael and Leonardo were all inside the currently vacant dojo, getting ready both physically and mentally for what was to come. 

And even Leo, the second most level-headed member of the clan after the resident genius, could not help but allow his nerves to peak and be shown outwardly in anticipation. The blue-banded ninja’s body felt very hot, and his throat extraordinarily dry as if he was currently standing in the midst of a scorching desert sand dune and not his own home. Every few seconds, his tail would twitch slightly as he stared with longing eyes at the other more vocal and eager turtles inside the room. Mikey and Raph were having their usual bout of banters, taunting and poking fun at each other. However, playful jokes and taunts soon subsided and gave way for a different type of exchange, this one much more lewd and provocative in a sensual sense.

“I hope you’re ready, Mike,” Raph said, his voice lower than usual, and leaned forward, effectively dwarfing the younger turtle. The corners of his lips moved upward a bit, forming the image of a manic and, in Mikey’s mind, somewhat scary smile, borderline sadistic. “”Cause I can’t wait for the moment when I get to hear you moaning and whining under me. Oh, I’d love to see you look at me with those teary eyes of yours as you suck my dick, your tiny little butt raised high up in the air, exposed and vulnerable against my explorations…” 

As Raph spoke, he leaned even closer until his face was merely inches away from the other, causing Mikey’s face to be adorned with a sweet and delicious shade of red. Raph’s smile widened visibly as Mikey’s eyes looked away from his, pleased that his suggestive words alone could reduce the most talkative of the ninja into a silent and obedient mate. To further add to his delight, the sight of a bashful Mikey, nervously fidgeting with his fingers entwined around each other, only made Raph all the more aroused. 

And thus, without any prior warning, the rough and heavily calloused fingers around Mikey’s chin suddenly pulled the orange-banded turtle’s face closer toward their owner. And before Mikey could form any sounds of protest, his lips were quite forcefully claimed by Raph’s. The kiss was indeed strong and passionate like usual, and Raph’s tongue would then perform its ritual-like dance around the closed entrance, tenderly and sensually tracing along and wetting the thin line, silently demanding access to what lies beyond. Much to his mirth, Raph did not have to wait long, for mere seconds later, Mikey voluntarily opened his mouth, not too wide but enough for the dominator to slip his wet tongue inside and begin his exploration.

The two turtles’ tongues continued to wrap around each other as lewd moans escaped from both of their throats, accompanied by the sound of their passionate kiss deepening. Their dance would continue on as the two, seemingly oblivious to the presence of their stunned and excited leader nearby, fought desperately for dominance inside Mikey’s mouth. The moment the smaller ninja was about to pull away from the kiss for some much-needed air, Raph unexpectedly wrapped his hand around his head and quite crudely pulled him back in. Mikey could do little to vocalize his protests, for all that came out was more churning moans and slurping noises. 

It was not until Raph was satisfied that he allowed the other to break away at last, and the moment he did, Mikey’s legs suddenly lost their strength, causing the orange-clad terrapin to drop to his knees and breathed heavily, taking in the precious air his lungs had been so crudely deprived of. 

“Oh,” Raph said again in an even huskier tone than earlier, his glowing eyes intently looking down at the kneeling turtle before him and taking in everything that was Mikey at that very moment. Shimminering beads of sweats had begun running down Michelangelo’s face, and at the corner of his still open mouth, the saliva remains of their previous exchange lingered. Mikey’s eyes were hazy as they looked up and returned Raph’s gaze. 

“…Raph…” Michelangelo managed to say at last when his control over his vocal cords returned. 

“Hmm, what’s this?” Raph asked slyly as he sent one leg forward and gently tapped his foot against the region between Mikey’s legs, and the effect was almost instantaneous. Michelangelo’s head bobbed backward, and he could also begin to feel the development of heat inside his cloaca. Involuntary moans and whimpers continued to escape his lips as Raph pressed his foot harder and harder. 

“Hey, would ya look at that?” said the red-banded ninja as he continued to excite the kneeling turtle with his foot alone, “Mikey’s getting subdued by the Foot…Never thought that would happen.”

“Oh, shut…up, Raph…Argh!” Mikey began to retort, but his breath hitched when Raph, with his toes alone, finally let loose the twitching penis inside, pulling it out in the open air and displaying it in its entire glory. 

“Ya were saying?” Raphael asked again, this time curling his toes around the hard organ, and, with tantalizingly slow and controlled movements, stroked it to the point of hardness.

No other replies came back from Michelangelo this time except for the short, pleasured gasps. As if on instinct, Mikey bobbed his head backward again and spread his legs a bit wider to allow Raphael better access and leaned back, placing both of his hands on the ground behind his body to keep himself from falling on his shell during Raph’s treatment.  
“Good turtle,” Raphael remarked as he continued teasing and coaxing Mikey’s penis to the point of erection. And the moment it was fully erected, Raphael stopped, grinning as Michelangelo let out a disappointed whine of protest. 

“Not yet, Mikey,” Raph whispered suggestively, “Now, I want cha to show me how ya usually play with yerself, keep yer junk hard, but don’t come yet.”

As if controlled by a spell, Mikey complied, reaching one hand forward and wrapping his fingers around the base of his penis. And then, with slow up and down movements of his appendage, Michelangelo allowed his grip to travel along the length of the throbbing organ and began pleasuring himself, all the while eliciting various kinds of noises with each and every movement, much to the red-clad turtle’s delight. Then, noticing the shade of green standing silently and forlornly out of the corner of his peripheral vision, Raph let out a chuckle and spoke up. 

“Ya gonna stand there all day and gawk while Mikey’s playing with his dick, Fearless?” Raphael broke eye contact with the needy turtle before him and turned around to meet the gaze of Leonardo, who had yet to move from his spot as he watched the youngest play with himself in full view, exotically exposing every bit and piece of his lean, well-developed body as he did so to the other two to behold and admire. 

Raph’s sudden call interrupted Leo’s focus on Mikey and caused him to look up in alarm. Seeing the surprised look on Leo’s face, Raph grinned wickedly, knowing that for once, he had managed to catch the leader off-guard – a fact he was sure to file away and use against the latter later.

“What’s worng, Lewd-nardo?” Raph asked again, raising a challenging eyebrow and making Leo’s face morph into an expression of mild annoyance at the less than desirable nickname in times like this. “Yer mind shut down from watching us make out or what?”

“Bite me, Raph,” retorted the blue-banded ninja with a frown of disapproval.

“Gladly,” Raph replied with a smirk without missing a single beat. Under normal circumstances, this would be categorized as bickering, but right now, behind the closed space of the dojo, these words were ones of flirting in Leonardo and Raphael’s shared language of stubbornness, created by their own mutual desire for exhibiting their dominance over the others. “Get yer bouncy ass over here and get it, blue boy,” Raph added. 

Immediately, Leo lunged forward at a speed that was perhaps too quick to be noticed by the naked eyes. The room suddenly tilted, and when Raph opened his eyes again, all he saw was Leonardo’s face, with his piercing azure eyes staring straight into the pinned turtle’s. And if he were to be completely honest with himself, he had always secretly enjoyed it when Leo was in the mood for a rough play. 

“Now then,” Leo began, wetting his own lips as he stared down as his trapped mate, “Let’s see if that tongue of yours can cash the check your troublesome mouth so generously writes, Raphael,” Leo, with a confident grin rivaling Raph’s, slowly leaned down and whispered softly into Raph’s hearing, causing a shiver to run up and down his spine.

“Heh,” Raph smirked back, “I’ve got other accounts ready for transfer anytime, bro. Let’s find out.”

“Yes…” Leo paused and leaned closer, his lips hovering just inches above his partner’s, “Let’s!”

No more words were spoken by the two oldest turtles as their lips crashed against one another. Their tongues did the same intimate dance as Raph had done to Mikey earlier, only this time, the dominator became the dominated, helpless in the presence of the other ninja.

No matter how hard Raph struggled, he could not shake off the strong the hands holding him down due to lack of leverage, and inside his mouth, Raph was at a losing position as well. Leo’s tongue so skillfully wrapped itself around its counterpart, never once letting up the relentless assault. As the battle raged on, the two turtles continued to deepen their kiss, mixing and swapping their own saliva with each other. Raph’s eyes slowly closed as his mind was overtaken by bliss, and in his hazy state, Raph could vaguely register the fact that one of the strong hands pinning him down had left its position, and was now freely roaming on his plastron, teasing and playing with his body.

Never once breaking away from their tongue war, Leonardo slowly, sensually moved his free appendage along Raph’s plastron, further arousing the other turtle with each touch and graze. The stray hand would continue lower and lower until it came to rest at a particular spot right between the red-banded turtle’s legs. Against his will, Raph’s breath hitched as Leo slipped his fingers inside the slit and toyed with his penis. 

“Mnnn…Le…Mnnn…” Raphael tried to say something, but his voice was forecibly silenced by his partner. Seconds later, Leo was the first the break away as the need for oxygen at last outweighed the desire to further humble his hothead of a brother. 

And at that moment, the view Leonardo got when he got up was picture perfect. A trail of saliva was hanging at the corner of Raph’s agape mouth. His breathing was somewhat heavy and sharp, and his face was as red as could be, effectively blending in with the fiery color the sais master was so fond of. Even when the weight against his wrists had disappeared, Raph still left his limbs up, exposing the delicious-looking flesh for Leo to behold – an enticing sight he immensely and hungrily enjoyed. 

“It’s my win,” Leonardo said as he resisted, albeit with tremendous difficulty and efforts on his part, the urge to claim the softened up Raph then and there, “So as per our agreement, the first turn with Mikey is mine, alright Raphie?” 

In response and much to Leo’s amusement, a weak and almost resigned growl came out of Raph’s throat, but even that was half-hearted at best, a mere front to satisfy the need to maintain his appearance as the tough guy of the clan. 

“Come here Mikey,” Leo said gently to the orange-banded turtle, who was visibly aroused and somewhat jealous as he watched, with hungry eyes, the sight of his two older brothers in arms having an intimate bonding time with one another. Upon being called over, Mikey immediately did, wasting absolutely no time at all.

“Bend over,” said Leonardo as he got off Raphael and moved toward Mikey’s exposed backside.

Producing a bottle of lube from his belt, Leo then applied a generous amount onto his fingers, coating them for the next event. 

“Ready, Mikey,” Leonardo said as he kneeled down behind Mikey’s bent form. Then, without warning, the blue-banded turtle leaned closer and parted Mikey’s butt cheeks widely, making the younger turtle to cry out as his cold, lubed up fingers were pressed against with his entrance. Leonardo, encouraged by the intoxicating moans of the younger turtle, continued to run his fingers up and down the crack for a while longer to further tease Mikey to the point of frustration. 

“Leo…Hurry!” Michelangelo whined with impatience, unable to push down his urges any longer. Between his spread legs, his penis throbbed in anticipation, delicious pre-cum dripping from the tip and landing onto the mat below.

“Tsk, tsk,” Leonardo chided playfully, waggling his wet finger in the air tauntingly as Michelangelo turned his head back. “Patience is virtue, brother dearest,” he said, entering his lecture mode for more dramatic effect.

“Oh for the sake of…” Mikey whined even harder before he lowered his chest and raised his vulnerable butt even higher, showing off the tiny entrance to Leonardo’s face “Just enter already!” he snapped, unable to hold back his growing frustration any longer. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” replied Leo sarcastically. The katana practitioner then smirked before he resumed prepping Mikey’s hole. At first, one finger went inside, slowly and tauntingly, and the effect of that one single gesture was immediate. Michelangelo instantly let out a high-pitched moan of pure pleasure, his tail wiggling and his fingers curling up against the mat.

“How is that, Mikey?” Leo said teasingly as he inserted another one, aroused by the various noises that were rapidly pouring out of Mikey’s mouth. 

“Ahh…Argh, Leo…Please…” Mikey began, but never got to finish as he felt something touch his sweet spot, sending his mind into a complete frenzy and white dots started to decorate his vision. “Oh my gosh!” he exclaimed loudly and, on instinct, raised his butt even higher toward the leader’s face, silently yearning and begging for more. “Leo…Oh my…feels so good! Leo!” 

“Oh, enjoying that, are we?” Leonardo asked again with a sly grin as he began stretching Mikey’s hole with a scissoring motion. “How about this, hmm?” he added, but in his current state of mind so far gone to the feelings of pleasure, Mikey could not form a coherent reply. “Tell me, Mikey, or I’ll stop if you don’t enjoy it.” 

“No…Don’t…” came the subdued and shaky reply, “More…Deeper…” 

“As you wish.”

Immediately, Leonardo inserted the last finger inside, enjoying the feeling of Michelangelo’s tight entrance pressing against him as he worked. It felt amazing, and the sight of the youngest ninja squirming and quivering underneath his touch was so delectable that the blue-banded ninja could no maintain his grasp on his own desires any longer. 

Patience be damned.

Swiftly, Leo reached his free hand down and freed his aching penis from its restraint, and released a soft sigh as he did. 

“Ready or not, Mikey, here I come,” Leo said and approached the orange-banded turtle. After taking his fingers out, the leader took a moment to enjoy his handiwork, his lips twitching upward as he saw the wet, loosened entrance waiting for him, so alluringly and delectably inviting.

And thus, not another second was wasted. Leonardo pressed the tip of his hard manhood against Mikey’s hole, and began to enter. After the first few millimeters had managed to, Mikey quickly vocalized his pleasure, shouting out loud. 

“Argh! Gosh, so…big…” Mikey gasped, his entire body quivering with indescribable sensations, and Leonardo could also feel his penis being squeezed inside. “Le…o…”

“Are you okay, Mikey?” Leonardo asked gently and sincerely.

“…Keep going…”  
Grunting and overcome by his urges, Leonardo continued to enter, deeper and deeper, feeling the heat inside his fellow clan member’s tight butt. Before long, he was completely in. 

“…Move…” he heard Mikey gasp out, and even in his swimming vision, Leo saw that one of the subdued turtle’s hands was reaching for his neglected penis as well, trying to find some release and escape from all the pent-up tension. Unfortunately, the oldest had other plan. 

“Don’t touch yourself, Mikey,” said Leo as he stopped the other’s hand from reaching its target. “I want you to come just from having your tight little hole drilled alone.”

“Heh,” Raph smirked, slowly stroking his own penis as he watched the explicit sight before him. “And Mikey complains about all the drills you run in training. Looks like he’s having second thoughts, Fearless.” 

Michelangelo let out a small whimper of protest, but complied with Leo’s command nonetheless. “Good turtle,” he heard the katana master say, but then, everything else including his own rationality was lost the very moment he felt a series of inward and outward motions from behind, all of which were performed in a slow rhythmic fashion. Leo’s thrusting started slow as first, but then, he began to pick up his pace, drilling in and out with more and more vigor as the seconds ticked away, pleasuring the moaning Mikey to the point of no return.

“…Faster…faster…faster!” 

“Oh, you feel amazing, Mikey. So…freaking…tight!”

With each in and out, Mikey’s neglected penis bobbed accordingly, and he all so desperately wanted to touch it and pump it for all it was worth. The tension built up in his dick, the heat inside his hole, his hot-headed brother’s suggestive and dirty taunts ringing in his ears, Leo’s pleasured moans and groans…everything seemed to wash over his every sense and amplify tenfold, drowning him in complete and pure heavenly ecstasy. Unconsciously, tears began to pool at his eyes and fell freely to the floor.

And soon, he could feel it, the feeling of climax growing near, further sending his mind into a state of complete and utter chaos. 

“I’…coming…” he said, voice barely audible amidst the series of shameless moans. 

However, Leonardo was, one again, not yet ready to accommodate his need for relief just yet. The moment the leader heard those words of warning, he instantly tightened his hold around Mikey’s bobbing dick and squeezed it, hard. The sudden action earned him another loud and sudden cry from his youngest partner.

“Hold on for a while longer, Mikey,” Leo leaned over the crying and yelling turtle’s shell and soothingly whispered the words. “We’ll come together…” 

With his piece said, Leo’s focus went back to the pace of his thrusts, groaning and grunting as he, too, felt the coming of his inevitable release. 

In, out, in, out, in, out, and soon… 

“I’m coming!” Leonardo yelled out. His head was knocked backward and his entire body became rigid as a wave of pleasure swept over. With one more thrust inside, Leo’s penis unleashed the pent-up tension, shooting streams after streams of thick loads inside Mikey’s hole. “Ahh…Ahhh!”

“Too…much! It’s hot…AHH!” Mikey joined in as well, feeling a sticky and warm feeling of Leo’s loads inside him, warming his backside. At that exact moment, the leader’s hold around Mikey’s penis disappeared, and it did not take long before he, too, shot his seeds across the distance. “I…My…Good…” Mikey gasped out when he felt the mass inside his hole disappear and his orgasm slowly subside. 

Almost immediately, the strength of his knees and hands seemed to be gone, and he found himself flopping to the ground, reduced to a breathless mess and lying squarely on his plastron with limbs splayed outward; the aftermath of the intense release continued to overwhelm his senses.

“That…” Mikey tried to speak properly, but as to be expected, he did not succeed in the endeavor, “That was one of the most…intense…ahh…”

“Glad you liked it, Mike,” said Leo as he, too, sat down to catch his breath, greedily taking in the oxygen after the strenuous love making session. “It was amazing!”

“Yeah…” replied the younger terrapin. His eyes were about to close, but then, he saw a shadow covering him, and looked up, only to meet the muscular form of Raphael looming over him, a wicked and impatient smirk apparent on his face. Just that sight alone made Mikey shiver, and when the bigger turtle kneeled down in front of him, the shivering increased. 

Effortlessly, Raphael reached out and hauled Mikey’s jelly-like form up. “My turn then!” said the horny and sexually frustrated sais master before he, quite forcefully, shoved the other backward, sending Michelangelo straight into Leo’s waiting arms. Placing his hands underneath Mikey’s arms, the blue-banded terrapin supported Mikey and kept him kneeling. 

“I’m going to enjoy this here,” Raph said with a grin, one finger lightly grazing Mikey’s twitching yet still rock-hard penis. The sensation of the feathery touch as well as the current sensitivity of his cock sent Mikey’s mind reeling into another whirlpool of sensations. Unconsciously, another churring sound escaped his chest. 

“Hmm, someone’s happy to see me,” Raph continued with his teasing caresses, lightly touching and grazing the throbbing hard-on, but still making no move to grab it. Inwardly, he was enjoying seeing Mikey squirm at the mere touches of his hand alone, and it was amazing as it was satisfying to know he could have this effect on the youngest ninja. 

“…Stop…teasing…you jerk…” Mikey rasped out again, his mind hazy and eyes teary.

“Jerk? Well, if you say so, bro.”

Another loud cry was subsequently heard coming from Michelangelo as Raphael suddenly grabbed the dripping wet cock and squeezed it harder than Leo’s previous rough play. Then, not allowing Mikey’s mind to adjust to the feeling, Raph began stroking, savoring the numerous moaning sounds that the younger terrapin produced.

“You’re so adorable, Mikey,” Leonardo leaned in closer and whispered softly into the side of Mikey’s head. After a swift and playful lick on the younger ninja’s cheek, the leader then moved one hand toward Mikey’s tear-filled eyes. “This will feel much better, I promise,” Leo added briefly before placing his palm over those moist blue eyes, obscuring them from view. 

“Now then, don’t think about anything, just concentrate on your feelings, just focus your every thought on how my tongue is going to snake up and down your neck like this,” Leo stopped for a moment to demonstrate by tracing the soft and wet appendage against the other’s overly sensitive and delicious flesh, causing Michelangelo to react sharply by arching his back and squirming against his leader's iron hold. “See, easy like that,” Leo continued, gently tickling Mikey’s face with his hot puffs of breath. And then, his tongue roamed free once more, trailing along and tasting each and every bit of the younger ninja’s delectable skin.

“And ya complain about the nickname, Leo,” Raph smirked as he watched his leader toy with Mikey, sensually provoking him with his words and his ever so skillful and versatile tongue – something that Raph knew quite well. 

Then, leaning down, Raph blew on Mikey’s throbbing dick, relishing each moan that escaped the subdued terrapin’s throat when his breath made contact with the exposed and dripping tip. 

“Itadakimasu,” said Raphael shortly before he gave the dick a light lick on the underside. Instantaneously, he heard Michelangelo’s breath hitch audibly, and his trembling increased exponentially. The feeling was further augmented by his temporary loss of vision, courtesy of Leo.

Raph leaned back, grinning maniacally all the while, and enjoyed the indescribably beautiful show the younger ninja was putting on for him. Mikey, so thoroughly and completely consumed once more by his urges and needs for touch, unconsciously tried to push his hip forward as far as he could against Leo’s restraint, blindly searching for the source of pleasure and seeking another relief. Unfortunately, Raph did nothing for a while, much to the other’s distress. 

“Raph…Ah…” Mikey whined, voice shaky and breathless when Leo’s tongue hit a sweet spot on his neck, “…Raph…Leo…Oh…ahhhh. Raph…Touch me, please.” 

Again, Raphael made no move, and instead stroked his own penis as he watched, feeling aroused by the incredibly beautiful sight and sounds his helpless brother was making. 

“Spare him your sadistic tendencies, Raph,” Leo halted his advance for a while and regarded his stubborn brother. “Let him come already. He looks like he’s in agony, not pleasure.”  
“Yeah, agonizing sexual frustration more like. Hmm, that's a nice-looking weiner, so let me think about it…How should I go about enjoying it, hmm...” Raphael crossed his hands and assumed a thoughtful expression, promptly ignoring the warning look Leonardo was shooting him. About a minute later, Raph allowed a grin to form on his face and went back to his work. 

Without warning, the bulky turtle opened his mouth and sucked on the tip of Mikey’s penis, tasting and savoring the sweet taste of the fresh new pre-cum pouring out. Needless to say, Mikey almost doubled over when the sudden feeling of something soft, comfortably wet and so incredibly hot wrap around his manhood. The accompanying suction on his penis, his loss of vision as well as the teasing movements of Leo’s tongue all came together at once and served to make his mind go crazy, wild and overloaded with a plethora of sensations. 

And those sensations were once again vocalized loudly and shamelessly by the orange-banded ninja, his body twisting and turning, vainly struggling against the firm hands of his captor.

“Ahh…Oh my…Feels good…Arggh!” Mikey exclaimed as Raph continued sucking on his dick inside. “Yes…More…Oh…Argh! I’m gonna come…gonna come…” muttered the poor terrapin, his breaths coming out as sharp pants. And then, like his previous session with Leo, the feelings created by the pleasurable wetness and heat were gone just seconds before he hit climax, “Raph!” 

“Hold it, Mike,” replied the bigger turtle in a deep, mesmerizingly husky tone that could even get Leo to blush against his will. “You ain’t coming until I’ve had my turn first.”  
It was then that Leonardo at last released Michelangelo, allowing the smaller turtle to fall on all four once more. “Open wide.”

Lifting Mikey’s head up, Raph then pressed his erect penis against the other’s mouth, demanding entrance. He did not have to wait very long, for Michelangelo’s lips willingly parted on their own, inviting the rock-hard organ inside.

“Oh, yeah…oh…your mouth feels amazing, Mike, and I don’t want ya to close it for a change,” Raph exclaimed as he thrust his manhood inside Mikey’s mouth while Leo played with the orange-clad terrapin’s butt and tail on the other side. The simultaneous sensations originating from different areas on his body filled Mikey’s mind dizzy with indescribable excitement and bliss. 

After an indefinite amount of time had come to pass once again, Raphael got his dick out of Mikey’s throat and got down to the main event he had been waiting for.

“Turn him over,” He said, and Leonardo did just that, flipping the horny Mikey over on his shell and placing both firmly hands on the youngest ninja’s wrists to keep him pinned down and grounded. He knew Mikey could be really wild and at times disastrously unpredictable when his mind was consumed by the pleasure. 

“Here I go,” Raphael warned as he leaned closer and spread Mikey’s legs widely, revealing the cute, throbbing entrance that Leo had so thoroughly and meticulously prepared for him beforehand. However, Raphael spent a few more seconds on the pleasuring Mikey's penis, altering from pumping and rubbing the exposed and sensitive tip with his rough palm while at the same time enjoying yet another show performed by the needy and desperate turtle before him. Once he had had his share of fun toying with the poor younger brother's penis, Raph then rammed his manhood inside, forcing a bloody yell to rip out of Mikey’s throat at the sudden pain upon entrance. His tearful cries, however, would soon reduce to the levels of whimpers, and with a nod of consent, Michelangelo gave his hot-headed partner the signal to keep going.

Raph did not need to be told twice. 

Roughly ramming into the tight hole of his fellow ninja, Raph was unable to contain the grunts that followed and accompanied each raw and uncontrollable movement. Raph’s pace would continue to become faster and harder while at the same time, Leo claimed Mikey’s lips on the other end, muffing the ecstatic and alluring noises the smallest turtle was making.

“Oh yes, yes,” Raphael shouted out loudly as he continued to drill into the other terrapin. Then, his hand unexpectedly reached out and grabbed Mikey’s neglected dick and stroked it, synchronizing the pace of his pumping with his thrusting perfectly. 

Being assaulted from all directions at the same time like that, Michelangelo did not last long, as evidenced by the curling of his toes and fisting of his hands, signaling the coming of his climax. And from the way Raph’s eyes were closed and his head knocked backward, his own was also near, and eventually, it arrived at last.

“Here I come!” Raphael shouted again, and at the exact same time, both turtles came, unleashing their hot and milky loads together.

“Argh! Too much!” Mikey cried out, his muscles tense as his seeds were shot all over his plastron, dotting it with touches of pearly white as a result.

And with Raph’s relief, the intimate session shared by the three at last came to its end, leaving all three turtles completely and utterly exhausted and breathless. 

“That…was too stimulating for me…” Mikey rasped out as he lied splaying on the mats, utterly spent after alternating himself between two very desperate and passionate older turtles’ rounds. It was the outcome he had expected when suggesting that they would engage in a threesome, but to be completely honest, Mikey had not expected this amount of fatigue initially, and yet, even when all of his muscles protested against even the slightest of movements, Mikey could not help but allow a small grin of satisfaction cross his lips.  
“You said it, Mike,” Raph replied as he sat up, looking tired but still better than the orange-masked ninja. His entire body was glistering with sweats, and every well-developed muscle was flexed as he stretched his arms and back, feeling a satisfying snap. 

“Stop that, Raph,” said Leo with a sly grin as he, too, managed to get up, but his short breaths suggested that the ninja leader was not better than Raph. Shooting said sais wielder a grin, Leo then scooted forward and placed his hand under the red-masked warrior’s chin, gently coaxing his head towards his direction. “You and your muscles can take a break for a day, that is, unless you fancy another round with me this time, dear brother of mine,” the blue-banded terrapin spoke in a hushed and whispery tone, his voice lacing to the very brim with unconcealed seduction that sent a new wave of chills up and down Raph’s spine. 

“Ah, shut up, Leo, I’m beat for now,” Raph said and pushed his older brother’s hand away, causing Leo to snicker in amusement at the blush that had involuntarily formed on the expressive ninja’s face, coloring him a healthy and sexy shade of pink. However, seconds later, that blush was gone replaced by a disappointed scowl and a growl.

“It’s great and all, though I wish Donnie could join us in this,” Raph said again, eying the other two. “It ain’t good ‘cause Donnie ain’t here…” his voice grew softer and softer toward the end of his sentence and his eyes soon averted away from the two turtles and fixed on the mats, a sad yet longing look apparent in his narrowed orbs.

“Agreed. Donnie’s always busy in his lab,” Mikey chimed in, struggling to sit up with Leo’s help. When he was upright, the brightly-colored turtle could not silence the whine as his backside felt the mix of pain and pleasure created by the aftermath of their activities. He allowed himself a few seconds to gather his composure and calm his breathing before resuming his sentence, “I know he has important stuff to do, but it sucks! He’s hardly around anymore, and we’re living under the same roof here for crying out loud!” Mikey’s voice grew softer toward the end as he had yet to completely recover his lost stamina.

“It can’t be help, Mikey,” Leo spoke up this time, quietly and gently, letting out an soft sigh as his thoughts wandered to his remaining brother, who had been very reclusive as of late due to the seemingly endless lists of maintenance work to be done around the lair. That and the fact that the genius had to share his dwelling with two very rowdy and rough turtles like Raph and Mikey meant something was always in need of fixing, further adding to his already busy schedules. 

Between training, patrols, Donnie had to make sure everything in the lair was functioning properly to ensure the safety and health of the small clan, for their sanctuary was not exactly the most sanitary location around, and the threats of sudden sickness were always looming, waiting for a perfect chance to strike its unsuspecting victim. And at the same time, the genius was also responsible for coming up with gadgets that could aid the four ninja in their endless quests against evil topside. 

Thus, the purple-banded turtle usually made himself scarce, locked up behind the soundproofed walls of his laboratory to work on his inventions and devices without fear of being interrupted by the more boisterous turtles’ presences and exchanges. 

And despite everyone’s hardest efforts to involve the quiet genius in their daily activities or simply just hanging out with each other like usual, Don remained detached to the three, putting the needs of his own clan far above his own, and while Leo greatly admired his brother for such a noble act of self-sacrifice, he could not help but think how unfair things were for the pacifistic ninja – the one who was forced to create weapons against his own nature.

“Donnie’s jobs are important to everyone,” Leo continued after he realized he had suddenly gone silent for too long, feeling the curious gazes of the other town on him. “And you know how he is, he always puts others first and places himself last, so…It can’t be helped…” 

“But it doesn’t make it fair,” Mikey pouted. “I want to spend some time with him outside patrols, not necessarily like this, anything would do, actually. I miss my best friend and only want him back. Is that really too much to ask?” 

“Trust me, Mike, me too,” Raph and Leo said at the same time, much to their surprise. 

Clearing his throat, Leo continued on, “But like I said, it’s Donnie’s own decision to stay locked up inside his lab, and much as I hate it, his decision is a righteous and noble one, and it’s also something beyond our control. We’ll do what we always do and try to get him to break as much as possible, but that’s all we can do. Now come on, let’s get cleaned up and rest up for tonight’s patrol. Master Splinter will be back from his topside excursion soon, and trust me, we most certainly do not want a repeat of last time,” Leo ended with a wince as he remembered his master’s shocked expression as he walked in on three of his sons committing acts of intimacy with each other.

“Hey,” Raph laughed boisterously as he, too, remembered that day, “He’s always surprised us, so it was worth seeing his surprised face every once in a while, no?” said the red-masked turtle as he continued to laugh, and soon, Mikey joined him as well.

“Yeah, Master Splinter has been most supportive of this,” Leo mused with a smile, thankful that the old master was open-minded about this thing, especially after Donnie’s big revelation regarding their blood. However, his smile was soon ousted by another frown, “And he’s been most supportive in keeping all of this a secret from Don as well…We wouldn’t want him to think he’s not welcome after all…”

The other two silenced almost immediately and looked at one another, and all three ninja would continue to stare at each other in silence for a while longer before they walked out to clean themselves up. Later that day, everything in the lair would go on normally as each turtle silently emerged themselves in their respective activities.

But after every few seconds, three different sets of eyes would travel toward the closed door of the lab, each shining with a glint of sadness and sympathy for the lonesome existence dwelling behind the thick metal gates.


	3. Midnight Mayhem

Left Out  
Chapter 3: Midnight Mayhem

The hours would continue to idly tick away as the last rays of light finally gave way to the cold darkness, the day uneventful. And when night at last fell upon the world above and the topside dwellers settled in their cozy beds, the four turtles would begin their work.

Swiftly and stealthily, the band of ninja opened a manhole in a strategic location and made their way up top, all the while exercising utmost precaution not to arouse unwanted and unwelcome attention, even if such attention was given by the homeless wanderers and vagabonds that roamed the alleys in the dead of night in search of leftover nutrition or by some lowlife thugs looking to conduct their dirty businesses within the secretive guise of the shadows unknown. 

Leonardo, as always, was the one to head up first, cautious and alert was he as he studied the darkened corners of the alley for possible unneeded presences. Once the coast had been deemed clear, the blue-banded leader gave the signal to the others to join him.

Within seconds, one silhouette turned into four, and as silent as death itself, the group quickly made their way towards the roof. 

“So, what do you think we’ll run into tonight?” asked Michelangelo light-heartedly as he, alongside his other brothers, made their leaps from one rooftop to another with minimal efforts, and yet, such grace and precision could only be honed and made possible by years of countless harsh and intense disciplines. Under the starlit sky of New York city, the four continued their round, unseen, unheard, unknown. 

“Hmm, we’d be lucky if we ran into some stupid Foot goons or some imbecilic Purple Dragon punks,” Raphael replied curtly, a wicked grin already forming on his face as he said his piece. “I’ve been itching for a good rumble all day, and I’m looking to blow off some steam right now.”

“Ooh…” Mikey immediately retorted, spotting a chance to get his second oldest all riled up and immediately seizing it without a second thought, “Excited and aggressive, are we? Why didn’t you say so, big guy?” he began, voice playful and yet, it was apparent that it also carried a subtle touch of provocation and a well-masked hint that geared toward seduction. 

It was, admittedly, difficult for Raphael to miss those innuendoes so cleverly covered in that remark after all, for too many times he had heard that them uttered by the youngest, and accordingly, he knew exactly where this conversation would go should the orange ninja be left to his device. Before any sort of interruption could even be attempted, however, the talkative nunchuck master continued, momentarily oblivious to the looming presences of Leonardo and Donatello next to him.

“Must have been really hard to hold all of that tension inside, huh…Don’t worry, bro, I have lots of ways to have you get it off and at the same time, blow your mind away,” Mikey followed up from his previous statement, causing Raph to dart an eye toward a very curious and intrigued Don for a while before growling at Mikey.

“Mikey…” muttered the red-clad ninja harshly with a pronounced frown plastered on his face, effectively shutting the other up before anything else could be uttered. “Don’s here,” the next part was spoken in a hushed and harsh whispery voice, as faint as the wind but still audible only to the one addressed, and at once, Michelangelo’s jaw snapped shut tightly. 

“What were you guys talking about?” asked Donatello, head tilted over to his right in genuine curiosity as he carefully regarded his brothers. The sudden and sweet voice of the genius caused Raph, Mikey and even Leo, who was running a short distance ahead, to simultaneously turn to look at Donatello, and two out of three quickly felt the sudden heat rushing to their faces and coloring their cheeks with a light tinge of pink. 

‘Thank goodness for the darkness,’ Leonardo thought to himself as he speedily turned his head back to survey the path ahead, hiding the mismatched blush from being discovered. Upon clearing his throat, the leader spoke up, his tone hushed and barely audible in an attempt to maintain their cover. 

“No time to fool around, you three,” he said with his usual tone of authority, and the others looked to him immediately, “Let’s get this patrol over and done with. The sooner we’re finished with the places that need to be covered tonight, the sooner we’re going to get some rest for tomorrow’s training.”

“Training, training, training, pah! Can’t yer head think of anything else ‘sides training, Fealess, or is that the only thing that’s hardwired into yer brain?” Raphael retorted, though Donatello noticed that his comeback lacked the usual edge and was more of a forced-fitted ruse rather than one of his genuine expressions of his annoyance toward the oldest ninja’s lectures. 

“Quiet, Raph,” Leonardo answered the second oldest ninja’s taunt with a roll of his eye, “Now come on, we’re losing the precious dark here.” Having said his piece, Leo then dashed ahead, prompting the other three to pick up their paces as well.

Deliberately closing in on Mikey while making it look completely natural, Raph then whispered something to the youngest, and as Don watched, Mikey turned away, his body language somewhat apprehended and apologetic. 

He could have sworn Mikey even gave him a sidelong glance for a brief while, his baby blue orbs filled with an odd sense of longing that far transcended that which is supposed to be expressed by one brother toward another, but due to the fact that his face was currently being hidden by the lightless shadows, Don could not be completely certain of the act nor could he of the fact. 

Once the brief internal exchange was wrapped up, all four returned to the task at hand, quickly making their way from one roof to another and at the same time keeping a vigil eye out for anything strange. And because of that, the three turtles running ahead failed to see a small, secretive and well concealed frown that had managed to work its way upon Donnie’s visage nor did they spot the brief flash of sadness that for a split second appeared in the genius’ cloudy irises.  
After all, the scandalous secret the three brothers thought they were still keeping from the fourth was, regrettably and unknowingly, no secret to Donatello and his watchful technologies.

…

The night grew later and later, and it seemed patrol that night would be a smooth joy run for the brothers, but fate had decreed their lives be difficult, and the moment Leonardo was ready to declare a successful night watch and give the order to fall back home, trouble came knocking in the forms of Foot soldiers, and not only of the usual pushovers that they had had the displeasure to so frequently deal with. 

As Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo stood in the middle of a circle formed by the dark-robed assassins, shell-to-shell, they could see a distinctively tall and lanky warrior that stood out above the rest. 

The mysterious assailant was a true enigma whose face features were hidden behind a helmet-like mask of deep crimson, which stood out against the underlings. His outfit, too, was rather peculiar in nature, and especially so for a ninja. His dark-colored robe was visibly baggy and loose-fitting, with ankle-length sleeves that seemed a tad too big and hid his arms from view altogether. A rather long ponytail could also be seen hanging from his shoulder, the end partially obscured by the thick veil of darkness. 

His entire appearance just exuded a feeling of mystery, and yet, as Leonardo studied the new enemy, he could also sense something unnatural and, dared he admit, lethal – something that was truly not meant to be underestimated. 

“Get ready, guys,” Leo said, never once leaving the group of ninja before him. “And watch out for the one with the red mask, he looks…dangerous.” 

“Understood,” replied the other three at the same time, and Raphael did not even try to challenge Leo’s authority this time, for he, too, could now recognize a threat when he saw one after much maturing on his part. With their focus set on the four vanguards of the Foot battalion. 

“Drain their blood dry for the glory of the master,” ordered the enigmatic assassin in a voice that sounded strangely monotonous and mechanized, and immediately, the Foot soldiers lunged forward at the same time, weapons drawn and ready in hands. Their number was indeed great, overwhelmingly so when one looked at the two sides. Unfortunately, while there was indeed strength in number…

“Take them down!” shouted Leonardo, and immediately, he slashed his katana across the ninja obstructing his path, disarming them immediately. The turtle would then deliver powerful and well-aimed roundhouse kicks to their faces, knocking them out without further endangering their lives.

…Skills still took precedence in this case.

On the west side fronts, Don, Mikey and Raph had next to no problem dealing with the amateurish soldiers. With each precise thrust of his Bo staff, Donatello easily hit the enemies in their heads and necks, either causing them to black out from blunt force trauma or momentarily cutting off their airway and making them collapse upon impact. Even when he was not currently at his best at the moment due to his long hours spent inside his lab and evident lack of sleep, the purple-banded ninja still proved to be a force to be reckoned with as he effectively wielded his weapon with a grace and elegance unrivalled - a true testament of his complete mastery over the art of bojustu. Every strike was made to disarm, to draw back, to intimidate, to incapacitate and never to kill, as his code of honor would never allow such a heinous act to be committed by his own hands. Within minutes since the fight broke out, most of the assassins on Donnie’s path were taken out, knocked unconscious and lying listlessly under his feet. 

“…And stay down!” Donatello exclaimed as he swung his weapon, hitting another ninja trying unsuccessfully to blindside him. The strike was swift, and needless to say, the threat was neutralized with tremendous ease.

On the east side, Michelangelo was also fighting his own war against his own assassins. Though severely outnumbered, never once did a single hint of nervousness cross his face, and instead, only a sly and radiant grin was seen, even in the dead of night, it was bright. The master of the nunchaku easily dispatched of his assailants with his attacks. As a great contrast to Donnie’s more controlled and passive battle style, Mikey’s was wild and practically unpredictable. His attacks were more than often well-timed feints, luring the enemies into a false sense of security before hitting the living daylight out of the unsuspecting and less experienced soldiers. His agility and athleticism also proved to be a valuable asset as well, for they allowed Mikey to aptly and fluidly dodge every attack thrown his way. 

Wrapping one of his nunchaku around a Foot ninja’s katana, the turtle then launched his fist forward, impacting the man’s face squarely with a massive force enough to black him out. “Now then, who else wants to have a taste of the Mikester’s Hot Nunchuck Fury, line up and step up,” said the orange-masked turtle with a wide and confident grin, “I’m in the mood to hand out free kisses tonight…with my fists, so we’ll call them…uh, wait a sec, lemme think for a while…ooh, kists!” 

After dodging another futile slash aimed at his neck, Mikey continued with his advance, taking down the assassins one by one almost effortlessly on his own with his trusty weapon.

At the same time Mikey and Donnie were fending off their attackers, Raphael was in charge with incapacitating the enemies coming from the south. Unlike his other siblings, Raphael did not waste any time with theatrics or extravagant techniques. Instead, the bulky and powerhouse terrapin simply stormed his way through the group of Foot ninja through sheer force alone, swiftly and rather brutally taking down anyone that dared to obstruct his path. With his twin sais, the red-masked ninja easily disarmed dozens of opponents in rapid successions before one of his massive limbs connected with their faces and chests, sending them flying in every fathomable direction as if they were weightless rag dolls.

“Pushovers,” exclaimed Raphael as he sank his knuckles into the gut of an unfortunate Foot ninja nearby, forcing all the air out of the man’s lungs and brutally sending him into the embrace of unconsciousness. “And I’m not even done warming up yet,” he exclaimed before taking care of the rest of the ninja surrounding him, sending bodies upon bodies flying in all directions imaginable. 

“Hey, watch where you’re tossing them, Raph!” Donnie said as he dodged one of Raph’s opponents was thrown at him. Thanks to his quick reaction, he was able to evade the impact. The other humans behind him, on the other hand, failed to and were sent off the roof when they were hit by their fallen comrade.

Landing on his feet again, Donnie was the ambushed from behind by one of the more cunning soldiers who actually knew how to manipulate the darkness around him to his advantage. The drawn katana was swung with lethal precision, aimed directly at the purple-banded ninja’s left jugular vein with the sole intent to kill.

As he was yet to recover from his landing, Donnie was unable to react in time. Luckily for him, Michelangelo was near his position, and with a well-aimed shuriken, the orange-banded turtle hit the ninja’s shoulder and disarmed the threat to Donnie’s life without too much difficulty. A subsequent hit to the face by the Bo staff effectively eliminated the human from the fight shortly afterward.

“Thanks for the save, Mike,” said Donnie with his endearing toothy grin, and despite his better judgment, Mikey allowed his attention to be momentarily swayed and allured by that charming smile on his genius brother’s face. And amidst a raging battlefield, a second of inattention equaled death.

Capitalizing the rare opening of the orange terrapin, one Foot assassin took out a pair of throwing stars and aimed the menaces at the distracted ninja. Unfortunately, he was unable to throw them in time. 

“Mikey!” Donatello, having already spotted the ninja before he even threw the projectiles, was quicker on the draw, his speed and agility greatly enhanced by the prospect of his baby brother being in harm’s way. Don’s own shuriken swiftly and soundlessly covered the distance between himself and the ninja, stabbing the man’s hand directly. The sudden shot of pain from the injury caused a pained cry to rip out of the human’s mouth and successfully alerted the distracted Michelangelo to the imminent danger. 

“Thanks, bro!” said Mikey after he bashed the side of ninja’s head with his weapon, and in return, Donnie offered a wordless nod of acknowledgement before they both went over to help Leonardo, who was now engaged in combat with the unusually lanky red-masked assassin. Raphael was not far behind, having wrapped up the last of his skirmishes with the weaker underlings seconds after Mikey and Donnie.

‘This guy is good…’ Leo thought wryly as he held his dual katana up to parry another downward chop by the elite Foot warrior, a frown visible on his face as he his knees slightly bent from the enormous pressure the assassin applied on both of his blades. 

Swiftly regaining his leverage and knocking the dangerous claw backward with a forward thrust, Leonardo then strategically decided to leap backward, joining his brothers as the four of them faced off against the new threat together as a team.

“Be extra careful, guys,” Leonardo warned, his narrowed eyes fixed on the single target before them, “This one is tough and fast, unlike the others. He can actually be a real threat, so stay on your guard and watch out for each other. Raph, you lead.” 

The other three nodded in agreement, and then, all three charged forward at once while Leonardo moved back and blended into the various corners veiled by the shadows, closely studying the enemy from afar and aiming for the right moment to take out the mysterious assassin by surprise.

Immediately, Raphael charged head-first toward the lanky Foot warrior, both sais drawn and twirling around his fingers. Letting out his usual battle cry, Raph reached out, attempting to stab his opponent’s midsection. Unfortunately, the other ninja, despite his tall and somewhat clumsy-looking and bizarre appearance, was able to dodge the strike simply by stepping out of the way in one simple and fluid motion. The robed figure would then retaliate by launching his knee at Raphael’s stomach, but the latter was able to defend himself in the nick of time using his arms. 

“Got you, creep,” said Raphael with a smirk as he nimbly and very tightly wrapped his arms around the addressed ninja’s leg, holding him in place. “Yer up, Mikey!” 

“Booyakasha!” exclaimed the youngest terrapin as he launched into the air and swung his nunchaku at the Foot assassin’s face. Unfortunately, the robed fighter was fast as he was flexible – a fearsome combination. Seconds before he was hit, he quickly avoided the strike by bending his upper body backward, expertly planting both of his extraordinarily long arms on the ground and rolling back and at the same time kicking Raphael’s face with his free leg as he performed his evasive maneuver. 

“Not cool, man,” Mikey said as he landed a little distance behind the red-masked assassin. Swiftly, the nunchaku wielding ninja followed up on his failed assault and lunged forward toward the enemy. 

When he was close enough, Mikey threw another strike.

Sadly, his nunchaku was squarely grabbed by his opponent, who then proceeded to violently and almost effortlessly toss the orange-banded turtle toward a wall nearby, causing him to yelp the moment his shell hit the hard material with a loud bang. 

“Nobody messes with my family, you overgrown walking stick!” said Donatello with a frown as he materialized right beside the assassin. Before the other could move out of the way, Donatello quickly jabbed the end of his long Bo staff at his gut, sending him staggering backward a few steps.

“Hiya!” Donnie cried out and continued to approach the robed fighter. Unfortunately, his swings were all dodged, and all of his kicks evaded. The moment his Bo was swung horizontally once more, the Foot ninja easily grabbed it with his hidden hand and held on to it in an iron grip. 

Donatello tried to retrieve his weapon, and yet, he could not. Before the turtle could do anything else, he heard a sound of wood being split and was subsequently punched in the face by a massive fist, the force of which knocked him backward and crashed into a newly recovered Mikey, sending both turtles to the ground once more, much to the younger one’s dismay. 

“Dude,” said the orange-banded turtle as he rubbed his head a second time, wincing slightly as his fingers suddenly touched a sore spot, “What is this guy? He’s like, voosh, everywhere! How on earth is he even moving like that?”

“I don’t know Mikey…” Donatello replied and darted a look at his – once again - broken Bo staff, an irritated frown present on his face at the annoying gag of his rotten luck. “But there is something…unnatural about that guy, and from what I’ve seen so far, his arms are abnormally long…and dreadfully powerful…inhumanly so to be exact.”

“So, mutant?” Mikey piped up, raising one finger questioningly. 

“Mutant,” replied Donnie with certainty. 

“Then we don’t gotta hold back, right?” said Raph as he approached Mikey and Mikey, helping them up on their feet.

“Yes,” Donatello replied, putting the broken pieces of his weapon aside and taking out a small dagger he had in case of emergency. “But be careful, we don’t know what kind of mutant he is.” 

“Copy that!” Raphael cried and charged forward again, causing Donatello to shake his head ruefully at the headstrong and reckless brother. “Come on, Mikey, we need to help him.” 

“Okie dokie, Donnie baby!” replied the youngest, the last word causing the taller turtle to go rigid for a moment before he managed to regain his composure and shake the initial surprise off. After that, both Mikey and Donnie rejoined the battle, aiming to offer his brothers assistance in a second attempt. 

All three turtles attacked together this time, cornering and overwhelming the lone assassin with their numbers and confusing him with their techniques. The Foot warrior proved formidable, skilled enough to parry the incoming torrents of fists and kicks and stabs of sais and swings of nunchaku launched at him in rapid succession, but everyone could see that he was struggling immensely to accomplish that commendable feat. 

In silent agreement, the three brothers continued to attack the robed figure, slowly yet gradually forcing him toward one of the giant billboard behind him. The three turtles continued to keep up the pressure on the opponent for a while longer before Michelangelo, receiving a subtle glance and nod from Donnie, broke formation and extended his hidden kusarigama. Leaping backward into the air, the smallest turtle then launched his weapon forward, commanding the elongated chain to snake itself around the Foot warrior, pinning him in place. 

“I’ve got him, guys!” yelled the excitable terrapin as he landed and yanked harshly on his weapon. The force created was enough to force the lanky figure to tumble forward a step, and that was all Donatello and Raphael needed. Together, the ducked down and swept their legs across the figure’s, knocking him down. 

“Now, you’re finished!” Raph exclaimed and got on top of his opponent, ready to punch the other and knock him out. Before he could manage the feat, unfortunately, the figure whipped his head sideway, swinging his brown ponytail around and getting Raphael off of him when the long ponytail slammed into the red-masked turtle’s side.  
Donnie was about to enter as well, but was forced to stay back and remain outside the reach of the strange ponytail. It was then a light finally set on it, and Donatello saw, for the first time, a sharp needle-like object attached at the end of the tail. 

“Ouch!” the hothead grunted, his anger slowly boiling after another failed attempt. “The heck is his hair made of? Steel?” he cried out.

“I don’t think that’s his hair, Raph, more like a very flexible apparatus or weapon of some kind,” Donatello began as he, Raph and Mikey watched the Foot soldier recovered and wiggled out of his bounds by snapping the chain with tremendous ease. 

“Dude, that’s my new kusarigama!” Mikey exclaimed and recalled the weapon to his side, “I’m sorry you have to pass away at such a young age, my beauty…hic…I’ll never forget your sacrifice…” he caressed the object and nuzzled affectionately, causing the other two to roll their eyes at the overly and unnecessarily dramatic mourning their youngest brother was putting on.

“Put a sock in it, Mike,” Raph chided and swatted the other’s head, making him yelp in pain.

“That hurt!”

“Good! It’s supposed to, now get yer numbskull head back in the game.”

“Long, powerful arms that can catch their prey in a strong grip, a strong, flexible apparatus with a stinger-like object at the end…” Donatello muttered to himself as he assessed the opponent’s unique characteristics. “…I’m not one hundred percent sure, but based on what I’ve seen so far, I deduce that this douche we’re dealing with may be a mutant scorpion, as for the exact species, I don’t know yet, so stay on alert.”

“Scorpion?” Mikey repeated, shuddering a bit, “Aren’t those things, I don’t know, poisonous?” His mind wandered back to when Raph was hit by Fishface’s toxin, and how loony he acted until the cure arrived along with the fragmented memories of Karai's latest assault on the lair entering his mind, unbidden and unwelcome.

“Technically, the correct term is venomous,” Donnie began, “You see, unlike those characterized as poisonous organisms, venomous creatures deliver the toxin into another organism through direct injection via specialized means such as fangs or stingers, and…”

“Oh, put a sock in yer mouth, too, why don’t ya Donnie!” Raph cried exasperatedly, greatly annoyed by his two younger brothers’ antics and lack of focus.

“For the record,” Donnie replied, “It’s important to be accurate.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! Use that lust for accuracy of yers for something else more productive, brainiac, like providing cover for example,” Raph dismissively waved him off before his eyes set on the lone assailant once more. “Now then, third time’s a charm?”

“Third time’s a charm,” agreed the two youngest ninja, and once again, Raph and Mikey moved forward in an attempt to subdue the mutant before them while Donnie stayed behind this time and provide long-ranged covers with his shuriken. 

Swiftly, Donatello launched two throwing stars at his opponent, who easily caught them with his covered hands. What he did not expect was for the two projectiles to suddenly go off on his face, releasing a thick and suffocating screen of smoke to cloud his vision.

Before the smoke cleared up, Mikey and Raph immediately got to work, sinking both of their fists against the figure’s abdomen, knocking the air out of his system and this time knocking him down. Before his back hit the ground, the figure nimbly broke his fall with his long limbs and recovered through a perfectly executed backward roll. 

When he looked up, however, he was, surprisingly and unexpectedly, met with three oddly still turtles a little distance away, each with a different grin plastered on their faces as they regarded him. Before the robed assassin could have a chance to decipher his situation, a powerful blunt force was applied on the back of his head, and within moments, all he could see was black before he succumbed to unconsciousness. 

“Great work, team,” commented Leonardo as he placed his katana back inside its sheath, a proud smile present on his face as he looked at his brothers. “And you seem to be growing somewhat as a leader, Raph, honestly, I’m amazed.” 

“Hah, all natural bro, all natural,” replied the red-clad terrapin boisterously, hands crossed before his broad chest and a smug smile on his lips. “Now, what ‘cha gonna do with that guy?” 

“He’s a dangerous adversary,” Leonardo mused as he looked down at the still form of the masked mutant he had just knocked out. The sleeves were up a bit, finally revealing the pair of strong, brown-colored pincers seemingly capable of snapping bones and bending steel with ease. “Too dangerous to be allowed to roam free at night like this or even remain part of the Foot.” 

“So, what’s your suggestion?” Donnie spoke up this time, joining Raph and Mikey. 

“Do you have any retro-mutagen back at your lab?” Leonardo asked, and Donatello nodded in return. 

“Yeah, some leftover after the whole Bebop and Rocksteady skirmish in that abandoned amusement park.”

“Good. Shredder has more mutants in his midst than we’d like already, so it’s high time we took some out and balanced the playing field, starting with this guy. We’ll de-mutate and depower him. How soon can you get to the lab to retrieve it?”

“About ten to fifteen minute at most, if I’m not caught up in ‘bad traffic,’ if you catch my drift,” replied Donatello as he made the calculations in his head.

“Okay, then we’ll take a break and watch over this guy, because I’m not sure Mikey’s fit for a warden post.” 

“Hey!” cried the orange-banded terrapin indignantly, but his cry was promptly ignored by the leader. 

“…In the meantime, Donnie, grab your retro-mutagen and come back here. Raph will go with you for backup,” Leonardo continued, paying no attention to the pouting Michelangelo and laughing Raphael nearby. 

Donnie nodded in acknowledgement, somewhat glad that he was needed for something important, and began to make his departure. However, as his gaze turned downward, he suddenly caught sight of something from the fallen assassin – a slight and very subtle twitch of the pincers, and immediately, all of his senses quickened and alertness peaked.  
“Leo, look out!” the purple-banded turtle shouted out, but he was a tad too late. 

The Foot assassin swiftly balanced himself on one of his pincers, executing a one-handed handstand maneuver, and subsequently extended his legs outward. He then quickly spun his body around, delivering swift and powerful kicks to the surrounding turtles’ ribs and sending all of them staggering backward at the surprised attack.

“How the hell is he still up? Did you even hit his head properly, Leo?” Raphael cried out again, his exasperation coming back at full force.

“I did, Raph!” the blue-clad turtle retorted as he took out both of his katana again, ready for another rumble. “Not my fault he has a really thick skull like a certain someone I know!” 

With a grunt, Raph then began stomping forward and attacked. His strikes were strong and deadly, but they were ineffective since none managed to make contact with the elusive scorpion. In retaliation, the red-banded ninja was grabbed in the neck by the long limb of the opponent and lifted into the air. The pincer would then slowly close around the turtle’s neck, choking him.

“Let him go, you monster!”said Leonardo and Mikey at the same time as they attacked from both sides. 

In an instant, the scorpion tossed Raph aside and used his natural weapons to parry and catch both Leo and Mikey’s weapons in his grip. With a simple twist of both wrists, he broke Leo’s katana and Mikey’s nunchaku at the same time. 

“Oh, crud…” Mikey and Leo muttered together before they were punched in the chests, forcing yelps and cries of pain to come out. 

Once he was finished with the other three, the masked assassin immediately turned his sight on Donatello, eyeing him precariously and carefully, gauging him, and much as it unnerved Donnie to no end, he could feel the creature’s eyes watching him from behind the strange-looking mask.

Donatello was quick to enter his battle stance, his eyes fixed on the unpredictable fighter and nothing else. “You want some, come get some, you spineless creeper.” 

“Target acquired,” said the assailant again, momentarily surprising Donnie, “Prime directive: Capture Donatello for the master.” No sooner had the last word left the figure’s mouth than he leaped forward, easily bridging the distance in one single sprint.

“On second thought, antagonizing him may not be my best and brightest idea. Ow, rotten sewer apples…” muttered the purple-banded turtle as he worked to defend himself against the deadly fighter, whose longer limbs allowed for much longer reach. If it had not been for his well-honed reflexes, Donatello’s neck would have been in a tight grip already the moment the battle began.

“Who are you working for? Is it Shredder or one of his associates?” Don asked as he evaded a chop and countered with a well-timed punch aimed at the masked fighter’s rib. The strike connected, but the other mutant simply remained silent and continued on with his assault, this time bringing his second natural weapon into the game – his tail and the venom-filled stinger. 

“Hang on,” Don asked, “Isn’t the tail of the scorpion supposed to be connected with the body, not the head…Oh, why am I even thinking about that at a time like this!” he then verbally chastised himself and his ever-present need for accuracy. “Mutagen…You never know what’ll come out in the end.”

“Submit,” said the figure again in a monotonous and strangely mechanical sound. 

The strike between the scorpion and Donatello would continue on and on, and despite his best efforts, Don quickly found himself being pushed back at a steady pace. 

“I may be in a pinch here,” Donnie thought wryly, “Literally!” he subsequently cried out loud and at the same time, narrowly dodged the grab of the opponent’s pincers. 

However, in his sudden movement, Donnie felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over him and momentarily lost his balance for a second. Unfortunately and much to his dismay, one second alone was more than enough time for the venomous creature to capitalize. The Foot warrior immediately sent his sharp and menacing stinger forward, aimed directly for Don’s arm, much to the turtle’s unconcealed horror.

And then, everything that happened after was a blurry mess of colors as he felt something tackle his body with a loud thud, knocking the air out of his lungs. Shortly afterward a soft sound of flesh being pierced was heard, echoing throughout the darkness and tranquility of the midnight sky and capturing the purple-banded ninja’s attention to the struck victim. 

“No…” Donatello gasped out as he held the head of the turtle lying on his lap up, worry and dread building up inside his being. “L…LEO!”

In response, the struck turtle could only let out pained gasps and breathless pants in return, his face contorted in an expression that exhibited nothing but pure, torturous agony as he tightly held his injured leg where the sting was made, grunting in pain as he did so. 

…


	4. Message Delivered

Left Out  
Chapter 4: Message Delivered

“Leo? Leo! Are you okay?” Donatello cried out, his voice shaky and trembling from the enormous pang of concern and guilt growing inside of him, gnawing gradually at his rationality and composure. “Leo!” the purple-banded ninja yelled again, gently tapping the anguished leader’s cheek with his free hand in an attempt to capture his attention. 

In response, Leonardo only let out a series of groans and grunts, his normally healthy green face – now feverishly flushed and filled with numerous beads of sweats – was now sickly pale and scrunched up in sheer agony and his fingers wrapping even more tightly around the injury. Even his body temperature seemed to grow hotter, and he was even showing signs of difficulty in breathing. As Donatello darted his eyes to study the spot, he saw the sting was swollen somewhat within a short period of time – not a good sign.  
“It-It’s okay, Leo,” Donnie said nervously, trying to regain some amount of control over his wildly racing heart and mind, “It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be fine. We’re going to get you out and back to my lab and fix you up, bro.”

Without waiting for a response from the injured ninja, Donnie looked up and looked at Mikey and Raph, who were at the moment both trying their best to push back the mysterious assassin with very meager success. Their strikes were as powerful as they were fast, but unfortunately, so was their opponent. The lanky mutant’s pincers matched pace with Raph’s stabs perfectly and neutralized the turtle’s attacks while his venomous apparatus kept Mikey at bay.

With a voice as loud as he could muster in his current state of mind, Donatello cried out to his other brothers, a touch of desperation clearly audible in his tone.  
“Raph! Mikey! We need to leave! Leo needs medical attention. NOW!” 

“You heard him,” Raph said before he promptly jumped back and threw both of his weapons at the other mutant, forcing the latter to use both of his limbs to prevent the projectiles from piercing his shoulders. Seizing his chance, Raph then lunged forward and roughly slammed his massive shoulder blade against his opponent, knocking him back and buying everyone some time to make their tactical retreat. 

“Let’s go!” the red-masked turtle shouted out to his youngest brother and together, they made it back to Donnie’s position. 

In their haste, neither Raph nor Mikey noticed the scorpion behind them as he threw a small shuriken at Mikey’s retreating shell, which landed and successfully embed itself onto the youngest turtle. 

Wordlessly, Raph reached down and hauled Leonardo up in bridal style, his face set in an image of grim concern mixed with a more subtle and well concealed dread. “Mikey! Smoke him!”

Michelangelo, for once, nodded seriously without wasting any second with mindless jokes and banters. Reaching for his belt and producing an egg smoke bomb, the orange-banded terrapin then slammed the object onto the ground, creating a puff of smoke that hid the four from the scorpion’s view. When the screen of purplish smoke was cleared, the four ninja were gone, leaving absolutely no trace behind. 

The Foot assassin then placed the twin sais Raph had thrown at him in his belt and subsequently eased his posture. Reaching one pincer for the side of his head, the enigmatic mutant then spoke again, mechanical voice monotonous and void of all known emotions. 

“Status report. Primary Objective: Capture Donatello - failed. Contingency objective achieved: The message has been delivered. Await further instructions.”

“Ezzzcellent,” said another voice on the other line followed by a cackle, “Get back to base and bring me the spoilzzzz.” 

"Acknowledged."

Once that was done, the assassin then returned to the cold and mysterious embrace of the shadows and fled from the scene, not even giving his fallen comrades a second thought or glance as they left them on the cold rooftop.

…

“We need to get Leo back home as soon as we can!” Donnie said desperately to the other turtles running beside him, “He’s been stung and poisoned and require treatment immediately. Scorpion stings are very rarely lethal on adults, but this is mutant’s venom, so the longer we wait, the worse Leo may get.”

“Is he going to be okay, Donnie?” Michelangelo asked, glancing worriedly at the convulsing and panting brother in Raph’s arms. The addressed turtle looked at Leo’s pain-filled face for a brief second before he refocused on the task at hand.

“He will be, Mikey,” Donnie reassured, if only to wistfully offer the youngest and himself some form of comfort, no matter how meager in amount it was.

Swiftly and stealthily navigating their way around the rooftops of the city and at last arriving at the darkened alley where their lair’s hidden entrance was located approximately ten minutes later, Donnie opened the door and without wasting another second, everyone ran inside and made a beeline for the genius’ laboratory. 

Raph let out a breath of relief as he saw the entrance to their home appearing in his vision, and he could tell that the other two did the same. When they arrived, they spotted master Splinter standing in the lounge waiting somewhat impatiently for their abnormally late return, his brows screwed together in apparent concern. When he heard the sound of footsteps approaching and spotted his sons, he immediately stopped his pacing and looked. 

However, no words left his mouth as his widened eyes laid upon the sight of his oldest child being held by his second oldest son’s arms, his pale and feverish face apparent and his breathing labored. 

“My sons?” he asked, but as soon as the last words came out, the four had already disappeared inside Donnie’s lab. And thus, as any concerned and caring parents would when the safety and wellbeing of their child’s was being threatened, Splinter followed after them at once.

“My sons!” he voiced his concern again, and this time successfully managed to capture Mikey’s attention, and it broke Splinter’s aged heart a little to see the painful tears rolling unchecked down the chubby cheeks of his youngest child. “What happened?” 

“Leo’s…Leo…” Michelangelo tried to stammer out a coherent answer, but he could not seem to produce anything other than sobs and hiccups, too worried about his leader and big brother’s safety to speak properly. As the old master laid his eyes on Leonardo, he saw, to his distress, his son looked positively horrible with his feverish face and labored breathing. 

“Leo’s poisoned,” Donatello answered briefly, his face now distinctively neutral and his voice surprisingly calm and detached as he systematically searched through his medical kits for the tools he required. Upon entering his laboratory, the purple-masked turtle seemed to become another entity entirely, and no trace of the former apprehension could be found in the ways he handled himself at that exact moment.

“Scorpion’s venom. No time to explain now, sensei. I need to determine the exact species and see if I have can produce a suitable antivenin. In the meantime, you need to apply first aid. Raph, get some soap and water ready. Sensei, please grab me a cool clean cloth. Mikey, get me some Tylenol in the cabinet over there. Leo’s going to need it.” 

Without neither questions nor hesitation, the remaining family members immediately took off with haste and carried out the family doctor’s order to the exact letter, collecting the items mentioned and returning as quickly as possible. 

“Good,” Donnie said as he took out his microscope and set the table ready for analysis, “Now, clean the sting site with soap and water. After that, compress the cloth over the wound, ten minutes on, ten minutes off. Make sure you don’t move Leo’s leg around too much. Sensei, can you give him the Tylenol to relieve the pain?” 

“Of course, my son.”

With that, everyone did as told, doing their best to ease Leonardo’s pain to the best of their ability while waiting for Donatello to figure out what kind of scorpion that had attacked their family member.

The results came after a brief while after the first aid procedures had been properly applied and the Tylenol given, aiding the ailing Leo somewhat with his pain. Quickly, Donatello grabbed the results and looked at it, but soon, his eyes widened in horror, something that his family members noticed and did not like to see on the doctor’s face at this moment.

“What’s wrong, my son?” Splinter asked carefully, barely able to mask the growing concern brewing inside of him as he looked at his second youngest son’s stricken expression.

“…The mutated venom shares similarities to that of the Arizona Bark Scorpion, the deadliest scorpion in the US,” Donnie replied as he tore his eyes away from the paper he was holding in his hand, a frown on his face. “Under normal circumstances, it’s very rarely lethal, but this one is affected by the mutagen, so it’s more powerful and…the chance of fatality is almost guaranteed…Leo doesn't have long before…” he grew silent at this point, a grimace crossing his face to express what was left unsaid, much to the other faimily members' utter terror. 

“But can you cure him, right?” Raph asked, impatient and dreaded by the grave news. 

“Theoretically, yes,” Donnie admitted, but his eyes were still downcast and hands trembling. Unfortunately, the others did not get a chance to breath out breaths of relief. On the contrary, the tension only grew heavier due to what Donnie said next. 

“However,” the purple-banded ninja continued, looking at his ailing brother with eyes sad and disappointed. “I need an actual antivenin called Anascorp from the hospital as a base to successfully synthesize a working antivenin for Leo.”

“Name. Address. NOW!” Raph shouted as he looked ready to bolt out of the lair and head to that hospital to steal the antivenin for his brother’s sake. Sadly, Donnie shook his head in a disappointed manner, a long sigh escaping his lips.

“No, Raph, there’s no hospital in New York that has it. The antivenin is only available in the states of Arizona, Nevada and Utah where this particular species of scorpion is abundant. There is none in New York.”

A brief and eerie interval of silence then descended upon the room after that statement, and it was only broken a while later by the sudden sound of fist slamming hard against the surface of Don’s worktable, echoing hollowly within the enclosed space.

“Whadda ya mean none!” Raphael shouted as he glared at Donatello, who was at the moment very adamant in averting his eyes and avoiding his acidic gaze. “Isn’t there anything ya can do? Yer the brain, Don, and if it’s anytime ya should actually put that big brain of yers to good use for a change, now is it!” he shouted, causing the other to flinch outwardly and instinctively take a step backward as if he had been physically struck. 

“Raphael, enough!” Master Splinter cut in immediately before the tension could escalate any further than it already had. It was only when his master’s voice reached him that Raph’s anger momentarily dwindled, allowing him to take a good look at his younger purple-wearing brother. 

Donnie’s head was hung, his shoulders slumped and his face hidden from view altogether. Everything about the genius turtle at that moment – from his posture to his aura – screamed shame and apology, both of which seemed to have been greatly amplified and augmented by Raph’s unintentional insult and accusation.

“I’m sorry…” said a voice almost too soft to hear coming from the defeated and ashamed turtle, causing everyone to grow worried for his current state of mind.

And Raph cringed visibly the moment Donnie lifted his head up a little bit and looked at him directly in the eye with his darkened and slightly moist brown eyes. In an instant, all misguided anger was wiped away from the red-masked terrapin, replaced by a sense of immense self-directed guilt and trepidation. 

“Don…” Raph began, his voice low and gentle, but before he could utter another syllable out, Donnie’s head was lowered once more, this time – as Raph noticed with a wince – even lower than before. Only then did Raphael realize how much his unfair statement had affected his brother, and immediately, he sought to rectify the situation at best he could.  
“Don, no,” the red-banded ninja began, rubbing his head sheepishly and temporarily looking away from his brother in shame, “I am sorry. It’s not your fault. We just need to figure another way to cure Leo like Master Splinter’s Healing Hand thingy.”

“That is correct, my son,” the aged master decided that he, too, should chip in his input in the matter. “Perhaps there is something that I can do to assist in lifting this venomous ailment that is hurting Leonardo with his predicament.”

With that said, the aged rat quickly set out to work, reciting the mystic mantra and using his own power to purge the oldest child’s body of the deadly venom. However, as time passed, Master Splinter’s face contorted into a frown, and he repeated the same mantra and gestures over and over again, but to no avail, for no matter how much he tried, Splinter could sense that the venom coursing within Leo’s veins could not be completely cured, much to his disappointment and concern.

“Sigh…It appears the Healing Hand can only slow down this toxic substance from spreading, not rid your brother’s body of it entirely. It is of a different variety and exponentially more powerful than the last one we encountered. There is regrettably not much else I can offer your brother in this situation I’m afraid.” 

“I’m very sorry…” Donnie said again, his voice, if possible, growing even softer and fainter than before. 

“My son, the blame lies with the Foot. You are not at fault for something beyond your control, Donatello.”

“But I was supposed to be in control of my own body…It should be me lying there right now, not Leo,” Donnie whispered once more, seemingly oblivious to what his father had just said. “I did this to him…” he added without waiting for anyone to say something.

“Shut up, Don!” someone snapped, and it surprised everyone inside the chamber that it was not Raph, but Mikey who had spoken up this time. The youngest turtle’s voice was visibly cracked, fresh tears now running down in torrents down his cheeks. His red and puffed eyes looked directly into Donnie’s own, and with a prompt step forward, the youngest ninja grabbed the second youngest of the clan by the shoulder, his grip tight. 

“Shut up, Donnie,” Mikey said again, his voice stern and harsh causing the addressed turtle to grow silent at once. “We need you to get a grip and find a way to save our brother. Master Splinter’s ancient art can help stall for time. Right now, you are the only one that can save Leo. So stop your wallowing, keep your head straight and think. That’s what you’re best at, bro! That’s what you’ve always been better than anyone else here.” 

Donatello, too stunned by the outburst, could not even find the correct words to say back to his younger clan member, and instead, the taller turtle could only look, mouth agape, at Michelangelo’s oddly fierce and serious expression.

“Hey Mikey,” Raph spoke up this time, his voice measured as his eyes quickly spotted something small and strange protruding from the orange-banded ninja’s shell. “What’s that thing on yer shell?” 

“Huh?” 

“Hold on, lemme get it out fer ya,” Raphael, grabbing a cloth nearby, stomped forward, worried that it could be another poison-laced projectile that had hit his brother without his knowledge. In one swift and prompt motion, the red-banded ninja yanked it off and examined the object – a very thin needle.

However, it was not the needle itself that caught his attention. Rather, it was the small piece of paper wrapped around the object that spiked his interest.

“That bastard had the guts to leave us a message,” Raph said with a growl as he presented his finding to his family and unwrapped the seal around the letter.

“What does it say?” Mikey asked, peeking over Raph’s shoulder to get a look, and nearby, Donnie and Master Splinter, too, did the same, impatience overriding the numerous codes of etiquettes and proper conducts that they had been subjected to their entire lives. 

With a steady voice that was a mix between his usual ruff one and a growl, Raphael began reading. 

“If you want to get the only available cure for the mutagenic venom of my new minion, come to warehouse number five at the dock at exactly three in the morning. And don’t forget to bring your retro-mutagen with you if you wish to spare the fate of whichever one of you unfortunate enough to get hit by Toge’s stinger. One second late, and you can prepare for a funeral.”

Raphael let out an almost feral growl as he scrunched up the piece of paper in pure disgust before proceeding to toss it aside. Next to him, the other family members, too, shared his boiling sentiments, but theirs were limited to a lesser extent and stopped at frowns of anger alone. With another rumbling snarl escaping his throat, Raphael balled his fists tightly and muttered the name of the one who had had the audacity to poison his older brother, his voice conveying nothing but animosity and loathing.

“Baxter Stockman…” the livid red-banded ninja said briefly before he and the younger two quickly got the Shellraiser ready for a second rollout.


	5. Transaction

Left Out  
Chapter 5: Transaction

In the eerie veil of still silence and almost suffocating pressure of the throne room located within the Foot’s New York-based headquarter, Oroku Saki sat atop his high seat and looked down at his attendants. Next to him on either side, Karai and Tiger Claw stood at attention, their postures tall and proud, while the rest of the mutants were forming lines along the spacious hallway, with Xever and Bradford standing on the right while Steranko and Anton Zeck stood on the other. At the moment, the members of Foot mutant army were directing their attention at a twitchy fly-human mutant hybrid kneeling humbly and nervously in the middle of the chamber. Next to him, the masked Toge, still as silent as death itself, crouched on one knee, showing his respect toward the master of the Foot clan. 

Narrowing his eyes dangerously at his servant, the Shredder spoke up, his voice low yet crystal clear, echoing hauntingly within the confined space. 

“Get up and say your piece, Stockman,” began the armored ninja, “And for your sake, this had better be worth my time.” 

“Do not fret, my lord, it izzzz,” replied the addressed mutant scientist in his hissy and flat voice, and got up to his feet after another quick bow. Clearing his throat, the fly mutant continued, “Today, I prezzzent to you my latezzzzzt creation, the nightmarish Arizona Bark scorpion mutant, Toge.”

With that, Baxter got up and proudly gestured to his new warrior.

“And?” 

“I have tesssted his fighting capabilitiesss, and the result wasss better than expected.”

“Have you any proof to back up your claims, insect?” asked Tiger Claw as he glared down at the robed scorpion fighter, his face neutral and unimpressed.

“Of course,” replied Baxter almost instantly, “Toge isss the product created by the ingenious fusion between the mutagenic ooze and my genius expertise in the field of technology. And for hisss first run, I pitted him against very credible opponentsss. Behold.”

Baxter then pressed a button on his remote, and immediately, a three-dimensional screen was formed in the air, projected from the right eye of the masked Toge. It was then that the entire army of the Foot executives got to watch Toge’s battle against their most dangerous enemies – the turtles – and saw firsthand how capable the scorpion was when he singlehandedly handled three turtles at once.

“Interesting…” commented Shredder with a hint of subtle interest lacing his tone as he intently watched the part where Leonardo was stung by Toge’s stinger and how an order of retreat was issued almost immediately afterward. 

“And that,” said Baxter as he turned off the screen at that point and turned his attention back to Oroku Saki, a series of hissy snickers escaping his throat. “Isss the result of the firsssst field test.”

“You dared mobilize the master’s troops without his knowledge?” Karai spoke up this time, apathetic towards the performance she had just witnessed. “Who gave you such rights, vermin?” 

Before Baxter could say anything in his defense, however, the Shredder raised one hand up, ordering his lieutenant to step down, which she did, albeit begrudgingly as evidenced by the disgusted grunt that managed to slip out of her restraint. 

Once his adopted daughter had returned to her post, Shredder turned his attention back to Baxter and addressed him once more, his voice unchanged and giving away none of how he was feeling. 

“Tell me, Stockman,” he began, fingers clasping around one another in a thoughtful and at the same time authoritative fashion. “For what purpose have you presented me with this creation of yours?”

“A terribly disguised attempt at a kiss-up from a useless insect, perhaps?” Tiger Claw chimed in with a snide, but Shredder simply allowed his offhand remark to go unnoticed in favor of listening to the fly’s reasons.

“Well?” 

“I ssssimply wished to offer my humble ssssservice to my lord and masssster Shredder, there issss no string attached or no reward to be sought after in doing ssso,” replied Baxter with yet another bow of his head, but everyone in the room knew it was merely theatrics and his gestured completely lacked any and all manners of sincerity. However, nobody in the chamber, including the normally loud-mouthed Xever and the perpetually talkative Anton Zeck, made any comment regarding the clumsy act of feigned loyalty. 

After a brief interval of silence, Shredder stood up from his throne and approached the silent Toge, who had yet to move an inch since the gathering began. When he was inches away from the enigmatic arthropod, the ninja master launched a sudden punch at the cyborg, but his strike was quickly parried, albeit with a mild degree of difficulty as shown by the fact that Toge was pushed back a little upon impact. However, that parry alone was enough to earn Shredder’s seal of approval and acknowledgement. 

“He may stay with us as one of my generals,” said the armored man as he turned away and returned to his high throne. 

“But father…” Karai immediately voiced her protest the moment the man sat down, “You can’t possibly put your faith in this…this gross abomination?”

“My mind is made up, Karai,” replied the Shredder sternly, his eye looking directly into Karai’s slit ones and showing his absolute resolution in the matter at hand, and that nothing anyone said could change his decision to adopt the mutant Toge into his army.

“…Yes, father,” Karai spoke up again, this time in a more subdued tone, and offered her master an apologetic bow. “Please excuse my rudeness. I have overstepped my authority.”

“You cannot overstep that which you have none in your possession, my daughter. The good of the Foot clan is for me to decide, and my decision alone is decree in its own right. Is that clear?”

“Crystal, father.”

“Ahem,” Baxter, watching the scene of exchange play out with some amusement, decided that it was time for his departure for his other important appointment, cleared his throat and stated his case again.

“Please excuse me, master, but I have other important matterssss that require my immediate attention, some very important research to carry out and many delicate upgradesss to the mind-control worms to make. May I take my leave now?” 

“…You may, but Toge stays.”

“Thank you for your understanding.” 

With that, Baxter took his hasty leave alone. Once the fly scientist was out of sight, Tiger Claw was quick to offer his counsel to his master. Leaning closer to his master’s ear, he began whispering. 

“Would you like me to spy on that treacherous and lecherous insect, master Shredder?”

“…There’s no need for you to waste your time with this trivial matter. We still have other more important business deals that require your…infallible negotiation skills. For this task, I have others more suited to carry it out.” 

Shredder then directed his attention to the distracted rhino and warthog mutant duo nearby and called for their attention. At the sound of their name being uttered by the fearsome man, both Steranko and Zeck straightened up at once, their postures rigid and unbelievably tense.

“Yes, Shredder?” they said at the same time, looking at Oroku Saki with no small amount of apprehension in their respective eyes, waiting for their command.

“Follow Stockman and report to me what he does. I want to know everything, every act, every location he goes to and everyone he meets. Is that clear?”

“Even when the dude’s in the toilet? Yo! That's sick, man. I ain't using my invisibility device on peeping on no dudes, especially when they're freeing their willies!” Zeck asked with a disgusted face, only to be shot by a menacing glare that promised hellish tortures and even instant termination from the iron-clad man. The force of that one simple look alone was more than enough to silence the mouthy thief to terrified silence.

“Ve vill,” replied Steranko in his thick Russian accent before he grabbed his partner-in-crime harshly by the neck and forcibly dragged him out of the room. 

“Are you certain you can trust Stockman, father?” Karai said to her master the moment the idiotic duo had left, her voice laced to the very brim with distrust and disgust for the fly hybrid scientist. 

“No,” replied the Shredder without even wasting a split second to think about his response, “He is treacherous and holds a vendetta against me, of that fact I am well aware, and he wishes to dethrone me and get revenge on my clan…” At this point, the human’s only functional eye trained on the obedient and quiet Toge below, who had taken Steranko and Zeck’s place on the left side of the hall shortly after their departure, for a brief moment before he resumed his speech. 

“However, to accomplish that, he will have to do his best to serve me and attempt to, quite futilely so, gain my trust with his scientific expertise and his creations, and I plan to make the most of it. Until the day his usefulness has at last expired, the doctor may still prove to be of some value to our cause.”

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer," Tiger Claw remarked, a devious grin already forming on his face. 

"Until I personally deem that Stockman's services are no longer required, he is to be left alone and monitored only, is that clear?" ordered the ninja master. 

“Yes, master Shredder,” replied both Karai and Tiger Claw with respectful bows, and below, Xever and Bradford did the same.

“Now then, let us get down to our main business and today’s agenda.”

…

Meanwhile, through the empty and still misty streets of the city, a massive vehicle was running at a dangerously fast speed and still showing signs of even further acceleration as time passed, its driver so expertly and somewhat recklessly turning the steep corners and navigating the shortest road toward the dock.

“Could you tone down a notch on your suicidal driving, Raph!” Donatello shouted with exasperation as he, along with Michelangelo, struggled to maintain his balance and to keep Leonardo’s form from being jostled too much at the back of the Shellraiser. “We cannot afford to have Leo move around too much lest we risk having the poison spread faster.”  
“Well, then why didn’t ya just leave him back home then?” Raph grunted without even so much as turning around. 

“You know why, Raph,” Donnie replied, replacing the wet towel on Leo’s burning forehead once more. Upon contact with the cool object, the sick turtle let out a small moan of relief, and unconsciously, Leo leaned closer to the source of the coolness. After a brief smile directed at his leader, Donnie once again looked at Raphael only to see that the red-masked turtle was looking at the back through the mirror. 

With a sigh, Donnie continued, his voice soft and subdued, “Leo needs that cure as soon as possible…”

“Can we believe in Stockman’s words, though?” this time, it was Michelangelo that spoke up, looking between his purple-banded brother and the sickly turtle lying on the stretcher. “I mean, he is part of the Foot, and he did, you know...with Karai...”

Both Donatello and Raphael grew quiet at that statement, the former sadly looking at the sight of his oldest brother, looking all feverish and breathless with his labored breathing and uncontrollable twitching on where he was placed. And then, with a sigh of resignation and defeat, Donatello tenderly guided one hand toward Leo’s face and gently wiped away the few stray teardrops that had leaked out of his closed eyes during his bout of intense agony – an action that was not lost on the orange-banded ninja nearby. At the foreign touch of Donnie’s cool hand against his hot flesh, Leo let out another muffed moan and instinctively leaned in to that touch. Donnie, on his part, allowed the veil of tranquility to stretch on for a while longer before he looked at his only younger brother in the eye, his own darkened orbs now shining with a cluster of conflicting emotions. Thus, in the same hushed tone, Donnie spoke up in reply to Mikey’s previous question. 

“Honestly, Mikey, I don’t know…” he paused a bit, but swiftly continued his sentence when he saw that the other was about to say something, “But what chance does Leo have right now? Sensei’s technique failed, and there’s no way we can get to the states that have the antivenin to retrieve it in time…No matter how we look at this, no matter how much we doubt Stockman and his words, what other options do we have, really?” 

“This is a nightmare…” remarked the youngest turtle as he watched Donnie gently caress the cheek of the ill leader, his normally radiant blue eyes now clouded and moist.

“Then let’s hope we can get a wake-up call soon,” replied Donnie before he went back to keeping the blue-banded turtle’s fever at bay once more. 

For the rest of the ride, nobody uttered another syllable to each other, and the only occasional sounds that could be faintly heard were the periodical half-lucid moans elicited from the sick ninja at the back.

This deafening silence would continue to last for the next five minutes when at last, it was shattered by Raph’s rough voice.

“We’re here,” he said and swiftly drove the Shellraiser inside the named warehouse. They soon came to a halt as they spotted the warning sign placed right before them, which stated that further passing was not permitted. At the bottom of the sign, there was a picture of a fly – clearly Stockman’s handiwork. Reluctantly, Raph unbuckled his seatbelt and headed to the back to have another talk with his family.

“Donnie, you stay with Leo,” Raphael said decisively, to which the Mikey hastily nodded in agreement, “Mikey and I will handle Stockman. After fifteen minutes or in case something goes wrong, leave this place immediately, got it?”

“But…” Donatello was about to voice his protest, but his attempt was quickly and promptly silenced by a harsh glare shot at him by the red-clad turtle. 

“I mean it, Don,” Raph spoke once more, his voice stern and leaving absolutely no room for further unnecessary argument. “You’re the only one who can actually have a shot at doing something about Leo’s conditions right now, so stay here. That’s an order.”

“…Fine…” Donatello deflated visibly and at last relented, knowing that his voice could not possibly change his stubborn brother’s mind. “I'll sit this one out for your sake, but be careful, okay,” he added softly and with a well-masked hint of hurt lacing his tone, which was sadly lost on both Raph and Mikey. Once he had finished his piece, Donnie then handed Raph a small tube containing his leftover retro-mutagen. Upon giving their brother two nods of acknowledgement, Raph and Mikey hastily disappeared further into the warehouse where the meeting with Stockman was to be held. 

“…Please be careful…” Donnie whispered once again as he directed his gaze down at the feverish turtle before him, a pronounced frown now dominating his facial expression. 

Once he was sure the other two were completely gone, Donnie leaned forward and , shakily, planted a small and swift kiss on Leonardo’s burning forehead. “Hang in there, Leo,” he whispered again, his voice quiet and muffed and his eyes shining with a small speck of hope for the oldest terrapin’s survival, “We’re going to do everything we can to help you get over this...big brother.” 

…

“Dude, does this place have to be like a haunted house?” Mikey asked as he looked around the spacious and empty warehouse, his eyes continuously darting from one corner to another on a constant lookout for any signs of an ambush. 

“There’s a reason they call this an ‘abandoned’ warehouse, Mike,” replied Raphael as he, like his brother, precariously and meticulously surveyed his surroundings, his eyes squinting and one hand constantly hovering above the handle of his sai, ready to pull it out at the first sign of danger.

“Yeah…But…”

Before Michelangelo could form another pointless and irrelevant comment, a new, hissy voice cut in, tearing through the stillness of the empty warehouse like a knife through butter and echoing hollowly against the turtles’ hearing. At once, their weapons were drawn in anticipation for a possible attack. 

“Welcome, turtles, and what punctuality! I’m impressssed.” 

“Cut the crap and show your hideous face, Stinkfly,” yelled Raphael indignantly into the shadowed area. If the encounter had taken place under different circumstances, Mikey would have frowned and pouted about Raph taking over his job as the name-giver of the enemies they faced, but in this particular situation, even Mikey knew better than to waste precious seconds needlessly with his antics and opted to stick closer to his brother in silence.

“Not the most cccccivil of envoysssss, are we?” said Stockman again, and this time, he indeed showed his face to the two turtles, materializing from the shadows directly ahead and holding a small syringe in his mutated hand. “We wouldn’t want thissss only available cure to sssssuddenly drop, now would we?” he added smugly, shaking the object before pretending to drop it, much to Raph and Mikey’s horror. 

“NO!” Michelangelo shouted out, desperation clearly audible in his voice, much to the mutant hybrid’s twisted amusement. 

“I thought so,” Stockman said mockingly once again, and it literally took every single teaching on self-restraint he had been taught and every method he had learned throughout his life at that moment for Raphael to remain still and not attack the enemy scientist. 

Exhaling a huge puff of breath to calm his boiling nerves down, Raphael then slowly and carefully trudged forward, placed the twin weapons back inside his belt and proceeded to produce a small tube containing Donatello’s retro-mutagen for Stockman to see. “We have what you want, Stockman. Now, hand the cure over.”

“Hmm, and how am I to know I’m not being duped? After all, I’m sssick and tired of promisesss made by a bunch of backssstabbing ninja already.”

“We can say the same to you,” Raph replied, calmly. “Unlike you, however, we actually have someone whose life is definitely worth fighting for. So there’s no reason for us to cheat you, now is there?”

“I ssssupose…” Stockman said thoughtfully as he studied the two creatures. “…Fine then.” 

With that said, Stockman then snapped his fingers together, and immediately, the lights flicked on, revealing a massive horde of Mousers gathered around their current location, all of them standing by and awaiting further instructions to attack. 

“We had a deal, Stockman,” Raphael scowled darkly as he pointedly glared at the mutant fly, but his glare was ineffective in this case, for the doctor clearly had the upper hand over them. 

“We did, and worry not, turtlesss, these mousersss are merely here to sssafeguard my wellbeing and making sure you treacherous ninja do not run off without completing your end of the deal.”

At this point, one mouser, whose design was slightly different from the rest due to its distinct lack of sharp jaws, broke away from the group and slowly advanced forward toward its creator. Carefully placing the syringe inside the robot’s jaws, Stockman then ordered it to take the cure to Raph, who swiftly retrieved it immediately. 

“There, my end isss done. But a quick word of warning, turtlessss, after injection, the victim may experience a rather high fever before the venom is completely purged from the body through sweatssss. Now, it isss your turn, place the retro-mutagen inside the Mouser’s holding unit, slowly.”

Raph did as told and carefully placed the small tube inside the open mouth. Upon receiving the goods, the robot swiftly made its way back to its creator and delivered the tube to him. With a maniacal cackle, Stockman held the retro-mutagen before him and studied it with delight.

“Yessss, YESSSS!” he exclaimed, “At last, I can be human once more…”

“I hate to burst your moment of sheer craziness, doctor,” said Raphael flatly, his voice void of emotions, “But are we done here?” 

“Yessss, we are…” Stockman replied with another flick of his fingers, forcing both Mikey and Raph to assume their battle stances immediately. To their surprise, however, the Mousers retreated and disappeared from sight via a huge tunnel located on the back of the warehouse. 

“It hasss been a pleasure doing business with you, turtlesss, and now that I have fulfilled my objective,” Stockman began as he peered intently into the shocked expressions of his adversaries, “Your pesky presencesss are no longer required." 

"You're just letting us go? Like that?" Mikey asked, incredulous. 

"Under no circumstances would I risk a fight with you that may end up destroying the retro-mutagen and the cure, and I am sure the sentimentsss are mutual, correct?”

Raph and Mikey said nothing in response to the hybrid's reasoning. Instead, they only lowered their fists and, after a while longer of surveying the area once more to be sure they were truly in the clear, wordlessly left the scene with haste.

Once they were gone, two silhouettes emerged from the shadows and approached Stockman. 

“Is it done, yet, Skunkman?” asked Zeck as he looked at the small tube in Stockman’s grasp. Before he could reach for it, the fly flinched back harshly. 

“Do not touch it and my name is Stockman, you uncouth, pigheaded ruffian,” he chided the warthog, “Thisss is something only I am allowed to handle, so keep your meaty hands away from it – the further the better. I need to get it back to my lab and study it so that I can replicate its compositions and produce a sufficient amount of retro-mutagen for all of us.”

“That hurts, man.” 

“No, comrade Zeck,” Steranko chimed in and held his partner back. “Stinkman is correct. Ve must not vaste ze only key to our liberation from zese hideous forms.” 

“It’s Stockman. Baxter Stockman, you big, imbecilic oaf! Now let’ssss go before Shredder learns of what transpired here.”

“Ah, before we dash, just one quick question,” Zeck spoke up again, making the other mutants groan in annoyance, “Should we have left those freaks escape like that?” 

“Yesss,” Stockman was quick to reply, but it was clear from the tone of his voice that the fly hybrid’s patience was about to exceed its limits. “Those freaks will be the instruments that will help us bring Shredder down once and for all, whether they know it or not. Now, let’sss go back, we have wasted enough time dallying here already.” 

Immediately, the three conspirators left the scene and headed back to the scientist’s lab. 

…

Back inside the Shellraiser on the front of the warehouse, Donatello was still trying his best to make sure everything was as comfortable as possible for Leonardo to the best of his ability, trying to lower the infernal fever that had been hurting his brother’s body and preventing the injured turtle from twitching around too much in his lucid state.  
Wrapping his hand around his brother’s trembling one and feeling the numerous calluses on that rough, dedicated palm, Donatello repeatedly muttered words of reassurance and comfort to Leo, all the while patting his scalp tenderly in an attempt to soothe the leader’s nightmare-filled slumber. 

“It’s going to be okay, Leo,” said the purple-banded ninja once more, but at this point, it was more like the young turtle was trying to reassure himself rather his ailing brother, and as Donnie spoke those words, his eyes intently trained on Leo’s face and his mind wishing there was more he could do to lift that pained expression away, “Raph and Mikey are going to return very soon with the cure, and then, we can…” 

Before he was even able to finish that thought, two voices blared up and entered his hearing, causing Donnie to momentarily leave his brother’s side and make his way toward the wheel for better visuals. To his absolute delight, he spotted Raph and Mikey running back, each with a relieved smile plastered on their respective faces.  
With one swift motion, he opened the door and let them in. 

“How…”

“We got it!” Raph said as he presented the syringe to Donatello, and at once, the doctor grabbed it and injected the substance inside Leonardo’s systems. The moment the syringe was drained of its liquid content, Donatello and Michelangelo resumed his position by the blue-clad patient’s side while Raph started the engine.

The Shellraiser instantly roared to life and at top speed, it made its way out of the warehouse and toward home.


	6. Comfort and Reassurance

Left Out  
Chapter 6: Comfort and Reassurance

“How’s Leo doing?” Raph asked as he tried to race home before the streets were crowded with humans, his voice noticeably rougher than usual due to the concern that was bubbling inside his chest mixed with a touch of hope for the blue-clad turtle’s wellbeing. 

“He’s stopped twitching around in his sleep, and his face is more at ease,” Donnie replied, letting out a long sigh of relief as he gazed kindly upon the peacefully slumbering face of his leader, his brown eyes radiating relief at the positive sign. Unconsciously and before he even realized what he was doing, Donnie reached his hand forward and once again caressed Leo’s cooled forehead, delighted when the sleeping leader seemed to smile a smile of content at his feathery touch. That alone pointed toward recovery, something Donatello needed to know. Unfortunately, the purple-clad terrapin’s worry did not fully dissipate just yet, only temporarily quelled. “He’s sleeping for now, but once we get back to the lair, I’m going to run a few more tests to make sure the venom has been completely flushed out of his systems.” 

“That Stinkman said Leo’s gonna be havin’ some nasty fever after the injection, so keep an eye out,” Raph said again before he refocused on driving the Shellraiser through the streets.

“I will,” Donnie replied. 

“Hey D.,” Mikey chimed in softly after spending some time silently watching his genius brother gently sweep his hand across Leonardo’s forehead, his movements light and soft, and yet there was something else to them, something more subtle in nature. Immediately, curiosity and another feeling – one which Mikey was not entirely sure himself, but if he dared to say aloud, it would be something not so dissimilar to hope - shone through his wide baby-blue eyes. “Are you…” he began, but whatever Mikey was about to say seemed to die down in his throat soon afterwards. ‘No, not now,” the youngest turtle sighed and subsequently chided himself mentally, ‘Donnie already has a lot to worry about right now, so there’s no need to add more to his stress…’

The orange-clad ninja then settled back down on his seat and grew uncharacteristically quiet. 

Intrigued and slightly worried by his only youngest clan member’s unorthodox behavior, Donatello carefully turned around to regard Michelangelo’s shell and spoke up, “Yes, Mikey? What is it you want to ask about me?” 

A brief sidelong glance was cast at him for a moment before that orb turned back to Leo. “…Nah, it’s nothing important…Just wondering if Leo’s going to be okay or not, is all…” Mikey muttered softly as he held onto the unconscious leader’s hand and gave it a small squeeze. 

A short look of doubt crossed Don’s face at that question, but it was swiftly ousted by another more mysterious expression, one that even Mikey himself could not quite decipher. The purple-clad ninja’s eyes were downcast and cloudy, his head was hung and everything about his current postures seemed to point toward resignation and defeat – but by what, Mikey had no idea, and that worried him.

“Yeah…nothing important…” Mikey heard his older clan member mutter to himself, but apparently, Don was not as quiet as he had hoped to be. And even though he did not fully understand why he hated the way Don’s voice came out so weak and soft like that, Mikey was sure he hated it, unconditionally. 

“Hey, Donnie?” Mikey asked once again, and a wordless glance was sent his way, “Are you feeling okay, dude? You look like you could use a break.”

At this point, Donatello could feel a second pair of eyes looking intently at him, two acidic green orbs clearly reflected in the rear-view mirror. Quickly smothering the influx of feelings raging inside of him, Donnie turned around fully and this time, he allowed a small smile to grace his lips as he addressed his baby brother.

“I’m fine,” Donnie began, voice soft to avoid disturbing Leo’s rest, “It’s just the last couple of hours have been rather stressful for all of us, that’s all.”

“…Are you…”

“I’m sure,” Donnie affirmed, almost too quickly and a tad too defensively for his own liking, and the way Mikey was looking at him with one curious eye ridge raised in a questioning and disbelieving manner made the purple-banded ninja cringe internally. “I’m sure, Mikey,” and so, he repeated, slower and more composed this time. “I will rest later, but right now, I need to make sure Leo’s condition doesn’t deteriorate.” 

“…Okay then…” 

The rest of the homebound trip was subsequently spent in an uncomfortable blanket of tense silence, and no turtles would strike up a new topic until they reached their base.

…

Throughout his life, Baxter Stockman had not been a lucky man, as everywhere he went and whatever he did, it was like bad luck would continue to haunt him in his every waking moment. As a logical and methodical man of science, he did not wish to put his faith in something immaterial and superstitious such as luck or destiny, but after numerous encounters and countless failed schemes to retake control of his own life, the scientist was starting to feel like he was cursed by something that existed beyond his understanding. 

And right now, his back luck was once again haunting him, hard, and in the form of a very dangerous and huge wolf-like creature baring its menacing killer fangs at his face, a malicious grin present on the monstrosity’s mouth. 

“Where have you been, Stinkman?” asked Rahzar in his intimidating throaty voice, his foul breath coming out in stream as he leaned closer to the mutant scientist. Stockman was scared, that much was clear, but he tried to keep his hands from shaking too much. Satisfied by the effect he had over the lesser mutant, Bradford proceeded with his taunts, circling the fly slowly, much to the latter’s dismay.

“I have businessss to attend to,” replied Stockman, trying to keep his voice steady. Unfortunately, it was a fruitless attempt. 

“Really?” the dark-skinned wolf mutant leaned closer again, peering straight into Stockman’s eyes, and at that one moment, the doctor cursed the enhanced vision of the fly, as everywhere he looked, the sights of Rahzar’s menacing and deadly fangs were still within his line of vision.

“Yesss…” 

“Then explain why you smell like…” he paused momentarily and took a long sniff, greedily inhaling the familiar remnants of scents radiating from the fly hybrid, “…turtles…”

Immediately, Stockman’s posture grew rigid, his huge head and his hands twitching uncontrollably as the pressure overwhelmed his rationality. He knew he needed to come up with something credible, or Rahzar would never leave him alone. Unfortunately, due to being unprepared for the wolf’s appearance at his lab upon his return, Stockman sadly did not have any believable excuses ready yet. 

However, even if he had, he doubted Bradford would have let him off easily anyway.

“I’m waiting, bug,” said Rahzar once again, his voice dropping even lower than before, and to Stockman’s horror, the larger mutant began fiddling with his claws and picking at his protruding fangs tauntingly, sending waves upon waves of dread running up and down Stockman’s spine and overriding his ability to think rationally. 

“I…I…” the scientist suddenly found himself stammering, but the exact moment Rahzar loomed closer, he stopped talking completely. 

“Yo, what’s up dawg!” said a bubbly voice followed by a series of oinks and grunts, effectively capturing the attention of Rahzar and Stockman. Anton Zeck then deactivated his cloaking device and revealed himself to his fellow mutants and held a bowl out to the wolf-like menace. “Want some turtle soup, big boy? I got it on an early morning jog. Apparently, the guy running the store is so blind he may as well be a bat. Got me and my pal Steranko a couple of bowls to warm up the bellies for the new day, yo.” 

“Anton Zeck…” Rahzar grunted in annoyance as the smell of the proffered soup entered his nostrils unbidden. With another glare at both Stockman and Zeck, Bradford released a deep throaty growl and promptly walked away back to his station.

“You owe me one, Stinky,” said Zeck as he tossed the bowl he was holding up in pure disgust at the fragrance alone. “I hate turtles.”

“That explained why you stopped for some snack along the road…Your foresight issss admittedly impressive, Zeck, and that timing could not have been any better.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know how doped-up sense of smell works for mutants. Now, just get on with the whole sciency mojo jojo you’re good at and get this whole scam over with. The sooner I get back to my old charming self, the sooner I get to flip skirts and chase down hotties day and night.” 

“That you will…Very Sssssoon…”

After Steranko joined them at the entrance shortly after accidently bumping into a very disgruntled and angry Rahzar, the trio walked inside, ready to start studying and reverse engineering the retro-mutagen for their own agenda. 

… 

Once the Shellraiser had been parked in its rightful place inside Donatello’s lab, the turtles inside the vehicle quickly brought the carried Leonardo’s slumbering form toward the sickbed and placed him there. Throughout the entire process, Raph, being responsible for carrying their leader, took extra precautions to move as smoothly as he could so as not to disrupt the blue-banded ninja’s rest. 

When Leonardo’s body was placed on the makeshift infirmary bed, Donatello immediately set out to work, checking Leo’s body to make sure Baxter’s cure was doing its job. While the genius worked, Raph and Mikey stayed clear of his way, but the worry and unease were still present on each of their faces as they watched.

“Leo’s going to fine, right, Raph?” Mikey asked Raph, who simply nodded, if only to reassure the youngest and keep his hope alive – and his own as well. 

Raphael then turned his head around, and the moment he looked into Mikey’s wide, pleading eyes directed at him, it took everything he had not to cringe and shatter the normally cheerful terrapin’s heart. Thus, with very carefully measured words, he began, voice low and unnaturally gentle, “Donnie’s gonna make sure of it,” at this point, Raph even shot his brother a small yet confident grin just for good measures, “’sides, ya honestly think Leo – our thick-skinned, stubborn, sci-fi-loving geek of a leader - is gonna kick the bucket like that. Heck no! He’s bounced back from way worse before, and I’m sure he’s gonna do it once more time. Just ya wait and see.”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right,” Mikey replied, and to Raphael’s relief, he could see the glimmer of light returning to his brother’s radiant eyes.

“That is correct, my sons,” said a sagely voice from behind, accidently causing both Mikey and Raph to let out simultaneous cries of surprise before they turned around to look at the newcomer. 

“Sensei…” said Mikey, sheepish, “Ah…Uh…We’re back, and we were going to greet you…” he continued, offering his master a small, forced smile. 

“Welcome back, my sons,” the old master replied with a small and sincere smile of his own, deciding to forgo formalities this time. “And Michelangelo, trust your brother’s words, for what Raphael has spoken is nothing but the truth. Your brother, Leonardo, is strong, both in the mind and in the body, and I have complete faith that he will recover from his latest ailments. And when he does, he is going to want to see his family’s smiling faces again.”

“Thank you, sensei,” said Mikey with a small nod of acknowledgement. With his mind put at ease by his brother and father, Mikey settled down and watched Donatello work. It would not be long until the purple-banded turtles finally finished with the necessary procedure and approached them with his news regarding Leo’s health. 

“How is he?” Raph asked, impatience lacing his tone and dominating his expression. In response, Donnie smiled and let out a sigh of relief before he began.

“Well, the good news is Stockman’s cure is working fine. The venom is being pushed back and will soon be flushed out of his systems soon,” Donatello said, and in an instant, everyone cheered, Raph and Mikey hugging each other tightly in celebration. Clearing his throat, the purple-banded turtle continued, his voice softer this time and the elation on his face also dwindling somewhat, “But the bad news is, Leo’s burning up like Raph said, and I suspect his temp is going to rise even higher for the next couple of hours.”

“And after that, he’s going to be cured?” Michelangelo asked shakily and his eyes moist with restrained emotions. His tears were unleashed at once when Donatello nodded his head in confirmation, and without thinking, the orange-banded ninja lunged forward and wrapped his hands around his older brother, squeezing him tightly and nuzzling his cheek against Donnie’s plastron, much to the other’s utter surprise. 

“That’s good to hear,” Mikey muttered mutely, oblivious to the dumbfounded, stunned expression his brother was wearing. “That’s good…” 

“Yeah,” Don replied briefly before he wiggled out of the shorter turtle’s hold. “You two go get some rest. I can take it from here.”

“But…” Raphael, as Donnie had anticipated beforehand, was about to voice his protest, but the purple-wearing terrapin was quick to put his nerves at ease. 

“Relax, Raph. I am more than capable of handling someone with a fever. Besides, you two already had to deal with Stockman, now it’s my turn to help Leo.”

“This isn’t a guilt thing, is it?” Raph asked again after studying the taller turtle’s face for a moment, and his trained eyes immediately picked up on the subtle and very swift twitch of the other’s fingers – so swift that had he not been paying attention, even Raph would have missed it. 

“…You guys go ahead and rest up,” Donnie said before turning back to Leonardo’s sickbed. “It’s been a long night already, and I’m sure you would love to catch some much-needed Zs. If I need anything at all, I can always ask sensei for help.”

“Yes, my sons,” said Splinter, one hand stroking his beard thoughtfully as he turned to regard his sons, Donatello in particular. “I will gladly provide any assistance that Donatello may require. Rest now, training shall be postponed until Leonardo wakes up.”

“…If you say so, sensei…” Raphael muttered, relenting at last. Throwing one arm over a reluctant Mikey’s shoulder and forcibly dragging him out of the lab, the red-masked ninja said a brief, “Good night,” to Splinter and Donnie before he disappeared outside the lab’s door.

Inside, Donatello, wordlessly, returned his gaze to his oldest brother and began gathering the things he needed to combat the inevitable fever. As he worked, he could feel the serene yet piercing gaze of his father’s eyes trained on the back of his head, but for the time being, he tried to focus solely on his task at hand and shut everything out. 

…

Upon entering the living room, both Raphael and Michelangelo quickly dropped to the couch as the fatigue and stress finally caught up to them now that the worst had come to pass. Absent-mindedly, Mikey was about to call April over for a chat, but before he could even press call, Raph was quick to remind him that it was only fifteen past four in the morning, so the teen would not even be awake yet. 

Slumping further into the backrest, Mikey let out another sigh, drained and mentally exhausted from all the worry he had been subjected to for the last couples of hours. 

“I’m beat,” the orange-banded turtle muttered, rubbing his eye with one hand and covering a large yawn with the other. Raphael only looked at the youngest ninja and snickered in amusement, mentally comparing the short teenager to a young child. Reaching out to gently rub the younger ninja’s head in a gentle and affectionate fashion, Raphael then spoke, his voice a barely audible whisper.

“Go to sleep, Mikey. Ya look like ya can use some of that.” 

“I’m not that tired,” Mikey whined and sat up, fighting the lure of sleep.

“Coulda fooled me,” Raph scoffed playfully, rolling his eyes at the orange-wearing terrapin’s childish antics. 

“Half of me wants to sleep, but the other half wants to stay awake to wait till Leo’s up.”

“Mikey…Ya heard Don. Leo’s gonna be fine, and he has two skilled medics to look after him in there. He ain’t going nowhere.”

“I know…” Mikey replied with another long sigh, his brows scrunched together stubbornly. “I still can’t bring myself to sleep, though.” 

Raphael sat still and thought about how he could help for a while, but only one idea came to mind. However, considering the situation they were in at this moment, the red-banded turtle was not entirely sure if it was appropriate. Nonetheless, when his concerned eyes fell on Mikey’s slumped body language, the urge to put the headstrong turtle to sleep took priority, and his mind was firmly made up.

“Tell you what, Mike,” Raphael began in a low, husky voice, slowly leaning closer and whispering softly to Michelangelo, “How about I help ease your mind and get you to sleep?” Despite the situation, a small delighted grin broke out on his face when the addressed turtle suddenly jumped and darted his head around fully to look at him, his big blue eyes wide with surprise at the sudden suggestive tone. His initial surprise soon melted away and, before Mikey even realized it himself, his face was beat red, perfectly matching the color of Raphael’s mask. 

“What’ cha say, Mike?” Raph cheekily continued in the presence of Mikey’s silence and took his advance a step further. Once his face was close enough, Raph swiftly let out his tongue and gave the younger ninja a quick lick on the exposed neck.

The effect was almost instantaneous. 

Mikey grunted softly and closed his eyes, silently relishing the blissful feeling of the other’s wet tongue so slowly and sensually running up and down his sensitive flesh and enjoying the tingling sensation coursing up and down his spines in waves at each and every touch. Raphael took the other terrapin’s stiffed moans and churrs as a sign of approval and proceeded. 

“You haven’t answered my question, Mike,” he whispered again, this time allowing his tongue to dance across the side of Mikey’s head.

“Yes…” the subdued ninja stammered breathlessly, feeling heat radiating from every part of his body, especially at a particular spot in his nether region.

Raph smirked in satisfaction as he watched Mikey breathe sharply at his touches and he could not help but want to tease his little ninja even more. “I can’t hear you.”

“I said, nnnng,” Mikey’s voice hitched as he felt a rough hand travelling along and tenderly caressing his thigh. 

“Yes?”

“Yes…” 

“Roger that,” Raph stated with finality before he held the smaller turtle up in bridal style and swiftly disappeared into his own personal bedroom, being extremely careful not to make a lot of noises and avoid alerting Donnie and Splinter.

Only when both of them were behind the locked door of Raph’s private room did he at last speak freely again. With a sinful smirk that made Mikey’s face heat up once more, Raph tossed the bundle in his arm on his bed and quickly pinned the orange-masked terrapin in place by his wrists. 

Then, he quickly got on top and leaned down until their faces were merely inches apart, tickling Mikey’s flushed face with his hot, quickened puffs of breath and further exciting the other. 

“Mikey…” Raphael whispered before he bridged the remaining distance, allowing their lips to meet at last. The kiss then began to deepen and become more passionate, more heated, and more suggestive. 

Lightly biting on Mikey’s lower lip, Raph silently demanded entrance and permission to explore inside, which, to his delight, was soon granted when the other voluntarily opened his mouth. Wasting no time at all, Raphael, now horny and filled with his urges, immediately sent his tongue inside Mikey and explored the new area. 

Muffed groans and moans could be heard from the younger turtle as Raph continued to express his domination, twisting and wrestling with Mikey’s tongue. This private, hidden dance shared by the two would last for a few more minutes until the need for air grew too urgent to be ignored. Reluctantly, Raph leaned back and broke the passionate exchange. And even then, both turtles were still connected with one another by a shimmering string of saliva hanging from their mouths. 

“Raph…Please…” Michelangelo moaned breathlessly, panting and squirming weakly against his captor’s firm hold. 

“Tell me what you want, Mikey,” said Raphael provocatively, that smug smirk still plastered on his face as he peered deep into the pinned turtle’s hazy eyes. “I want to hear it – your sweet, breathy voice calling out my name and stating the exact things you want to be done to you…here and now.”

“I want…” Mikey began, but whatever he was about to say next turned to a high-pitched yelp when he felt one of Raphael’s knees gently hitting against his cloaca, arousing and urging the ogan inside to come out. “Ahhh, Raphie…” 

“What do you want Mikey?” Raph repeated teasingly before he maneuvered his hold so that both of the younger ninja’s wrists were tightly secured within one single palm. Before the other could say anything in response, Raphael allowed his now free hand to roam freely and slowly across the hard plastron, carefully and meticulously feeling every millimeter before sliding it toward the normally invisible slit.

Michelangelo’s mind was now overwhelmed by his primal instincts and swimming thanks to Raph’s teasing gestures and husky voice echoing hauntingly inside his head. He could not think clearly anymore, and thus, he barely registered Raph’s repeated question. 

Mustering what was left of his control over his body functions, Mikey spoke up in answer, his voice trembling and almost inaudible amidst his heavy breathing. 

“Do…me…” he managed to gasp out at last, but Raph still wanted this moment to continue for a while longer, continued teasing. 

“And where is the magic word?” asked the red-banded terrapin, his rough fingers toying with Mikey’s slit and trying to coax the restrained penis out of its hiding spot.

“…P-Please…Raph…Argh…Nggg…” Mikey let out another loud moan the moment his erection was released, courtesy of Raphael.

“Good turtle.”

With that, Raph finally released Mikey’s wrists. He subsequently sat up and let his manhood free as well, having gotten a hard-on himself after continuously hearing Mikey’s breathless begging and blissful moans. 

Pressing and sliding his throbbing manhood against Mikey’s own, the red-masked turtle then wrapped his hand around both of them and began to move, his hand going up and down in a series of rhythmic motions. The combined feelings of Mikey’s own penis rubbing against his own coupled with the shameless moans that were pouring in streams out of the adorable and desperate turtle underneath him excited Raph immensely, and with such encouragements, he picked up the pace.

Raph’s hands went faster and faster, and accordingly, so did Mikey’s breathing, borderline erratic at this point. 

“Nrgh…Mikey…” the muscular turtle grunted as his hand continued to pump both of their penises rapidly. “So…good…”

“R-Raph…Oh, Raph! I’m close…I’m about to…Argh…” his thought was left unfinished as the need for release neared. 

“Me too,” Raphael spoke up, before he cried out, “Nggg…Cumming!” he exclaimed loudly inside the enclosed space. As if shocked by a sudden current of electricity, both of their bodies arched, and at once, thick and heavy loads after loads of their essences were sent flying across Mikey’s plastron, dotting the smaller ninja’s chest and stomach with beautiful stripes and random touches of white, making him all the more delectable in Raph’s hungry and lust-filled eyes.

The tired turtle then flopped down on top of Mikey, and both of them continued to pant as the aftermath of the first release washed over their bodies and together, they relished it. 

After a brief interval to catch his breath, Raphael sat up again, intending on moving on to the next event. 

“Now then, Mikey…Let’s…” his voice suddenly died down in his throat immediately at the sight of the addressed turtle sleeping, having exhausted the last ounce of his stamina with the last release already. 

“Ya little rascal,” Raphael muttered with a small smile gracing his lips, his voice holding absolutely no manner of accusation whatsoever. “Who in the friggin’ hell falls asleep during sex? Mikey, apparently.”

A soft, quiet chuckle was soon afterward heard as the red-masked turtle gently reached down and, with practiced stealth displayed in his swift movements, he untied the slumbering teen’s mask and put it aside on his nightstand. Quickly doing the same with the rest of Mikey’s gears and his own, Raphael then walked over to the corner to retrieve the tissues and proceeded to cleaning up the seeds that rested upon the sleeping turtle’s plastron, making sure to move as quietly as possible.

“Sweet dreams now. When you wake up, everything is going to return to normal again,” Raph, after pulling a blanket up to Mikey’s chin, affectionately whispered his good-night to his young mate before he settled down next to his sleeping angel’s side. He spent his last few seconds of consciousness silently and adoringly studying the younger ninja’s peaceful expression as he slumbered. He would have continued, but regrettably, his overwhelming exhaustion induced by the long night finally overtook him. 

At last, Raphael, too, succumbed to the sweet allure of sleep, one arm instinctively draped over his treasured mate’s frame protectively and possessively, a satisfied and content grin plastered still on his face.


	7. Counsel

Left Out  
Chapter 7: Counsel

Like a soundless shadow dancing with grace and elegance under the dim moonlight, Donatello swiftly and stealthily paced around the room, his actions performed in a controlled fashion, as he worked as fast as he possibly could to gather the necessary supplies for Leonardo before the inevitable fever worsened. His movements were precise with a practiced sense of professionalism, and not even a single twitch of his fingers was wasted needlessly. 

Even though he had specifically asked for master Splinter to stay behind should, no matter how slim the actual chances were, any need for assistance arise, Donatello was doing a very good job himself, singlehandedly preparing the water and medicine without so much as making a single noise loud enough to potentially rouse the slumbering brother.  
Unfortunately, Donatello, no matter how hard he tried, could not fully concentrate on the tasks at hand.

Throughout the entire process, he could feel – with perfect clarity – the serene yet intense gaze of his father figure staring at the back of his head, silently and wordlessly watching him, but through sheer willpower alone, Donatello tried his hardest to suppress the growing nerves that his master and father was consciously sending his way. Even though the old master had yet to utter a single word except for a few occasional muffed hums, his presence was strong – exceptionally and deliberately so. 

Not yet ready to face his father just yet, Donatello thus continued to occupy his mind with other things; unfortunately, the list of items that one could set up to aid a patient with a fever was not a very long one, and soon, the last article on the list was crossed out after the purple-banded medic placed a large bucket next to Leonardo’s bedside in preparation for highly probable future mishaps. 

With one last sigh, Donatello at last allowed himself to sit down on a small chair placed by his brother’s side, his eyes struggling immensely to stay open. 

And now that he had run out of things with which his mind could be distracted, Donatello readied himself for the inevitable speech that was surely set to come.

The seconds came and went and ticked away…

However, contrary to the genius’ belief, silence – thick and eerie silence of the uncomfortable kind – continued its deafening reign inside the closed lab. The only sounds that could be heard now came from the rhythmic and constant ‘drip drip drops’ from a dripping pipe, echoing hollowly from somewhere within the lair. Donatello, now somewhat bothered by the stillness of the atmosphere and the lack of action from his master, continued to wait for Splinter to speak up, knowing that the old mutant definitely had something on his mind just from the meaningful and less than subtle stares of his. 

Yet still, Splinter remained quiet where he was standing, his posture relaxed and his breathing even, and everything seemed to point toward the fact that Splinter wanted Donatello to come out to him first instead of the other way around.

Not really knowing what to do now, Donatello proceeded to occupy himself by fiddling with Leonardo’s blanket and constantly checking the wetness of the towel placed upon his forehead, hoping that his own patience could possibly outlast his father’s. 

Sadly, this was a battle from which he was not meant to emerge triumphant, for approximately ten minutes later, the quietness of the lab and the serene yet analytical gaze of the old master had grown much too uncomfortable, even for his liking. While it was undeniable that Donatello, being the most reclusive of the turtles, could easily withstand the notion of being subjected to hours after hours of silence locked away inside his lab, he could not accomplish the same thing now that someone other than himself was awake and looking at him watchfully, intention unknown. 

Letting out yet another a soft sigh and finally resigning himself to the fact that he had been defeated, Donatello slowly turned around to face master Splinter. He then broke the veil of tranquility around them, speaking in hush. 

“Sensei,” he began as he meekly returned his father’s gaze at last, uncertainty painting his voice, “Is…Is there something you want to tell me?” 

“…And what makes you ask me that question, Donatello?” Splinter spoke up in answer, one hand stroking his beard thoughtfully as he looked directly into his purple-wearing son’s eyes. But to Donatello, it was more like his master was peering straight into his very soul. 

“…Well sensei, you have been looking at me in silence for quite a while now, and admittedly, it’s kinda…disconcerting, so I just assumed there is something you would like to discuss…with me…about Leo’s predicament,” his voice grew softer and softer toward the end until it was reduced to a faint whisper, easily lost to a simple gust of wind were there one. Unconsciously, the conscious turtle ducked his head shamefully and turned his attention back to Leonardo’s sleeping face, expecting some form of reprimand from his master for having so carelessly let his brother get hurt on his behalf. 

To his surprise, once again, nothing of such nature escaped the rat’s lips. Don could hear master Splinter get up and approach his position, but still, he did not turn around, and he would remain so until the master’s presence was directly coming from behind him.

“My son…” master Splinter began first this time, his voice holding the same perfect balance between sternness and gentleness that only a father could manage to achieve when speaking to his sons, and such a balance was what successfully captured all of the turtles’ attention most of the time – and this time was no exception for Donatello.

“Leonardo is going to be fine. Even you said so yourself, so you can put everything to rest now.” Oh how much Donatello wished to be able to accomplish that, but he knew he could not, as the events were still too fresh in his mind.

“No, I can’t, not just yet,” Donnie protested politely, “I need to make sure everything is comfortable for him.”

Master Splinter sighed but maintained his patience, “I think both you and I know to what I am referring, Donatello.”

At this point the turtle took off the wet towel from Leonardo’s forehead and rewetted it once more. Before placing it back in place, Donnie also reached out and checked his brother’s temperature, frowning slightly as the increased heat that greeted his palm. It was not alarming yet, but it was still a sign of deterioration.

Once he was finished placing the rewetted towel back on Leo’s burning forehead, Donatello turned around to regard master Splinter once more. 

“Leo’s going to be sick for a few hours, but I think I can handle it from here, sensei. I’m sorry to have taken up your time. Why don’t you head to bed? I’ll notify you and the others of everything when you wake up later today.”

“Hmm, if memory serves me right…was it not you, Donatello, who told your brothers that should any need of assistance arise, you would ask for my help?” the old master asked, and his trained eyes aptly caught sight of his son’s subtle flinch. Yet, he made no comment on it. Instead, Splinter continued on, “Or were those simply hollow words - White lies spoken without meaning and only in an attempt to persuade Michelangelo and Raphael to retire?”

At this point, Donatello directed his attention away and refused to meet his father’s gaze, but while his eyes could not see his father, his other senses could - clearly and, to his dismay, very strongly. 

“…It’s the least I can do…” The turtle muttered softly before he grew still, but soon, he felt a warm hand pressed upon his shoulder, the touch strangely light yet indescribably comforting. “Everyone’s had a rough night already, and seeing as I’m the only odd one out, it’s natural that I should be responsible for taking care of Leo now.” 

“…Donatello,” he heard master Splinter began again, his voice low and gentle, “You are a great son and an equally great brother, and I have no doubt that your wish to assist Leonardo in his recovery from this latest predicament stems from your sincere desire to see your brother safe and healthy again,” Master Splinter paused a bit, taking a second to study his son’s expression and at the same time allowing his words of truth to sink in his purple-clad son’s mind before resuming, this time with a different tone – sterner yet no less kind, “That being said, I can also see it in your eyes, sincerity is not the only thing that is currently guiding your behavior right now, is it not?” 

Donatello let his body do the talking this time as his shoulders slumped and his head was hung in a dejected manner, his eyes still trained solely on Leo and not returning his master’s gaze.

“It’s my fault…” he mumbled, mostly to himself rather than toward his father. 

“Hmm…Guilt is a crushing burden for the mind to experience and the heart to bear, my son, especially to the more sensitive ones. I know because I have been through many trips of such nature already, and from what I’ve learnt, it is very dangerous, as it slowly gnaws away at your sanity and fuels your mind with negative thoughts and emotions. It controls your actions, clouds your eyes to what is present right before you and distorts your own opinions of yourself and of others around you…” 

Master Splinter, certain that his genius son would stubbornly continue to remain the way he was, took the initiative and went on, “And also from what I have learnt throughout my lives both as a human and as a mutant, blaming yourself for what transpired in the past will not have any effect on the present circumstances.”

“I know that…But I can’t help it. It was my fault, sensei…” Donatello spoke up at last, his hands tightly curled into trembling fists as he fought desperately to keep himself from raising his voice. “I did this to him.”

“Hmm…Then answer me this, was it you who injected the venom into your brother’s body with the malicious intent to kill?” the old master asked, and in return, his son immediately shook his head. “Then why do you insist that this is your doing?” 

“I should have been fast enough to dodge that strike…If only I had moved faster and gotten out of the way, Leo wouldn’t have needed to intercept and almost gotten himself killed for my moment of weakness…It’s always me messing something up, and it’s twice Leo’s had to pay for my mistakes now. First with Shredder and now this…It’s like I can’t do anything right, just like Raph said…”

After that, a brief interval descended upon the lab as the two conscious mutants stayed still, the younger adamantly refusing to regard the older for fear that the moment he would, his father’s disappointment would be what he was to be met with. 

“…Donatello,” master Splinter spoke again as he watched his tallest son absent-mindedly rewet Leo’s towel once more, if only to keep himself distracted and his unstable emotions at bay.

Seeing his son’s hesitation, Splinter repeated, “Donatello, please look at me.” 

Slowly and hesitantly, the addressed turtle did as told. 

“You of all people should know that Raphael says many things out of anger, but they hardly mean anything malicious. They are merely words spoken in irrational outbursts, and thus, they should be taken as such.”

“Maybe…” Donatello whispered doubtfully, something that the perceptive ninja master did not fail to detect, “But it still doesn’t excuse the fact that had I had better control over my body, Leo wouldn’t have…” he was unable to finish his thoughts this time, as his master immediately cut him off. 

“You, among your brothers, possess the most brilliant of minds I have ever known, a mind filled with so many wonders and complexities the likes of which far exceed what my own could never even hope to imagine. It is filled with so many hypotheses and scenarios regarding a vast selection of aspects that even I cannot fully comprehend, thus making it a valuable asset in your and our arsenals,” Splinter paused to see if his son was still paying attention or not before he went on, “But your ever active mind can at times serve as your most dangerous enemy, for it can mislead you toward thoughts that are less than kind or fair, especially regarding yourself, my son.”

“What are you saying, sensei?”

“What I’m saying is that sometimes, you are too engaged with the various images that your own mind wants you to see and as a result, you become detached to the present, oblivious to what is currently happening around you. Inadvertently, you lose sight of what is actually right in front of you. And while it is fine to look back and consider your past mistakes, to ask yourself questions about what could have been done in the past to produce more desirable results, it is sometimes more important, my son, to look past the scenarios wrought by your own imagining and see what is right here before you – the complete, undistorted picture of the now – and take it for what it truly is,” the rat paused momentarily and gestured toward the sight of Leonardo sleeping on the sickbed. Though there were beads of sweats running down from his head, the turtle looked more or less at ease in his restful slumber.

“Leonardo may have been unfortunately inflicted with a lethal venom and his life was endangered, but here and now, he is with us, safe and sound, alive and soon to recover, all thanks to you and your brothers and whatever luck we were blessed with when Stockman gave us the real antidote, and that itself is a cause worth celebrating.”

Donatello sat still and allowed the words to echo inside his head, his expression no longer one of grimness like earlier, but one of thoughtfulness and musing.

Taking his son’s apparent change as a good sign, Master Splinter chuckled softly to himself in delight before he continued with his advice, “You can sit here all day long, my son, and utter to yourself words like ‘should have,’ and ‘if only,’ to your heart’s content, but by doing so, you are allowing your guilt to wrap itself tightly around your heart and mind, and if this keeps up, you will never be truly free from the shackles of your own creation, Donatello. So my advice for you is this: do not.”

The turtle stayed silent, but unlike his earlier attempt at evasion, this time, Donatello was truly absorbing his master’s counsel and allowing them to marinate his thoughts. He would remain still for a while longer. His hands were expertly keeping check on Leo’s temperature while at the same time, his mind was replaying the words of his father repeatedly. At long last and for the first time since his return, Donatello finally allowed a small, genuine smile to grace his lips as he looked up at Splinter, gratitude radiating from his rich brown eyes.

“…Thank you, sensei,” said the turtle with a small bow, and in return, master Splinter simply nodded and returned the gesture, happy that he could help his genius son get over a portion of his problems. The rest, however, was not his turn to interfere just yet, as he had secretly and solemnly vowed to himself not so long ago. 

“It is my pleasure, my son. And yet, this situation, I sense, is but a small and gentle breeze signaling the formation of the weathering storm that is most likely to come. And once that storm has come to pass, new beginnings may at last commence.”

“I’m sorry?” Donatello asked, bewildered by the strange and offhand advice. 

“…In time you will understand, my son. In time you will…” Splinter replied cryptically, further increasing the other’s puzzlement, before he sat down next to both of his sons inside the lab and silently watched over the oldest as he continued to rest. And when the drug-induced fever did come to ail Leonardo, both father and son would join hands and work together to help Leo combat it until the vicious ailment finally subsided exactly three hours later.


	8. Breakfast in Bed

Left Out  
Chapter 8: Breakfast in Bed 

Everything felt fuzzy when the first signs of consciousness returned to him after hours of lying dormant. Leonardo did not remembered much of what had happened to him or how much time had come to pass, but the first thing that greeted Leonardo when he was able to pry his heavy eyelids open was the fact that his entire body was very sore and his muscles tired, and to make matters worse, there was even an accompanying splitting headache that disoriented his senses. Luckily, the headache was short-lived, and he was able to regain control of his sights only seconds later.

It subsequently took a few more seconds and a couple of blinks before his eyes could fully adjust to the dim lighting of the room in which he was resting as Leonardo began to look around, gathering some data regarding his current whereabouts and situation. The initial images that entered his field of vision were a collage of colors and untellable shapes of all sizes, but soon, the fog clouding his vision would gradually lift and enabling him to see clearly.

Then, familiar sights were seen, and outwardly, Leonardo let out a sigh of relief. He could spot the old and familiar worktable cluttered still with an assortment of tools and blueprints, and upon further inspection, Leonardo spotted a huge and elaborate flow chart neatly stacked away at the corner, the sight of which made him smile a little, and afterward, the space where the Shellraiser was being parked for maintenance…With another sigh of relief, Leonardo turned the other way and the moment he did, he allowed a small smile to cross his lips when he spotted a recognizable form awkwardly slumped on the right side of his bed, a flash of purple standing out amidst the shade of green. 

“Donnie…” he muttered to himself hoarsely, still somewhat tired from the effect of the venom and the fever that had been ailing him for more than six hours into the night and morning. His throat felt sore from lack of water, and oh how much he wanted to have one at that moment, but for the heart of him, Leonardo did not wish to disrupt his purple-wearing brother from his peaceful slumber. 

But still, his thirst was unquenchable and of course, a difficulty that could not possibly be conquered by sheer willpower alone. Leo desperately wanted some water at that moment - even a small sip would be heavenly.

As if in answer to his unspoken desire, he then heard the door open softly but still enough to capture his attention. Wearily, Leonardo sat up and cracked his neck forward to see the new visitor, and it was then that he spotted his master walking toward him, a small and happy smile present on his face.

“Father…” the turtle whispered with a sign of relief mixed with happiness as master Splinter approached his bed, a purple blanket neatly folded on his arm. 

“Good morning, my son,” replied Splinter as he draped the blanket over the shoulders of the sleeping Donatello before walking over to the opposite seat next to Leo’s bed. Quickly, he grabbed the bottle of water laid on the nightstand, which Leonardo had sadly missed during his preliminary inspection, and poured the content into a glass that Don had so thoughtfully provided beforehand.

“I trust that you have had a good rest,” the old rat mutant continued as he passed the glass to his son. Leonardo felt the cool water rushing comfortably over his parched lips and down his dry throat, and he greedily took everything in. Once the glass was emptied, he sighed in content. Gently, Splinter adjusted the pillow behind him and helped him lean backward into a half-sitting position, careful not to jostle the bed too much and wake up his other son. 

“How are you feeling?” Splinter asked gently, but even though his voice was calm and his face composed, Leonardo could still detect a hint of concern well hidden within his words, and that thought alone made him smile in gratitude. 

“I’m fine, sensei,” the turtle replied, sounding much better and more like his usual self already. Clearing his throat with a small cough to rid the last of the lingering hoarseness, Leonardo repeated, this time with more strength and reassurance. “My body’s a bit sore, but overall, I’m feeling okay now.” 

“That is indeed good to hear, Leonardo.”

The addressed turtle then felt a cool, furry touch pressed against his warm forehead, and admittedly, it felt very nice. Unconsciously, the vulnerable oldest son of the clan leaned forward, yearning for his father’s comforting caress – one he had not enjoyed for years now and suddenly felt a rush of nostalgia washing over his mind at the contact. Master Splinter, too, found a small smile spreading on his face at his oldest son’s innocent antics. He had not done this for any of the turtles for a while now, and if the old master was truly honest with himself, he missed the days long past when his sons were more reliant on him for his paternal support and comfort in their times of distress. 

After a moment of silence, Leo turned around to look at his brother, and his face morphed into a small frown of concern, “Is Donnie okay?” he asked quietly and reached out his hand to lightly touch Donatello’s finger. The younger turtle stirred a bit at the sudden contact, forcing Leo to take his hand back immediately, but still remained deep asleep. 

“Your brother is perfectly fine,” master Splinter answered, and had Leonardo turned around to look at his father, he would have seen the unadulterated proud smile predominating the old ninja’s face at that moment, proud that even in his moment of weariness and recovery, Leonardo still expressed unrivalled care for his family with all of his heart and soul.   
“In fact, it was Donatello who has been up all night to help subdue your fever in any ways he could. I did provide my assistance, but most tasks were carried out by your brother alone. Last I checked, he was awake a few minutes ago when I went out for a brief break. His accumulated tiredness must have at last caught up with him to leave him in this current state of exhaustion.”

“In any case, that’s a relief he’s resting…something he should admittedly do more of,” Leo sighed in relief and sank further into his pillow, his eyelids fluttering a little. 

“You, too, should go back to sleep, Leonardo. You look like you can use some more to help your body recuperate from the side effect of the antidote.” 

“I don’t think I can, master Splinter,” Leo’s eyes turned up to meet his master’s, “I don’t feel like sleeping right now.” 

“…Then perhaps I should call your brothers to keep you company for the time being?”

“No, sensei, let Donnie sleep,” Leo replied politely, “From the looks of it, he’s has a rough night already. Besides, he definitely could use some more since he’s always busy with his projects and everything mechanical that goes haywire around the Lair.”

“I was not referring to Donatello,” Splinter spoke with a chuckle, “I meant Raphael and Michelangelo.”

“They’re awake?”

“Yes, I saw both of them sitting in the kitchen when I went out, and they said they had slept long enough despite my protests. Right now, I presume they are having breakfast. Perhaps Michelangelo can make you something light for your stomach as well. How does that sound, my son?”

“That…sounds inviting, actually. Thank you, sensei,” Leo replied with a brief upward twitch at either corner of his lips. 

With a nod of acknowledgement, master Splinter disappeared outside the door, soundless and stealthy as ever even though there was no such need for such display of skills. And now that Leonardo was alone, he darted his eyes back to the sight of the slumbering Donnie again, and those blue orbs softened. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Don…” he whispered quietly to the genius. Sitting up to an upright position once more, Leo then reached out to, quiet hesitantly at first, pet his brother’s head, and his smile grew even wider when he saw the slumbering turtle instinctively lean forward toward his touch, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath. 

“Heh…You must be really dead tired to be this deep in sleep, huh…” Leo mused fondly as he continued caressing the purple-clad ninja’s scalp in an affectionate and somewhat longing fashion, his fingers tracing along the sleeping terrapin’s face with feathery touch and lingering a bit at the purple-masked ninja’s soft, slightly parted lips – barely enough to show the gap that Leo had come to associate with the word adorable. And oh, they were as soft as he imagined after all, Leo decided then and there, and his mind suddenly wandered to how it would feel to have those lips tightly pressed against his own.

In an instant, Leo’s eyes snapped open even though he never remembered closing them. 

“No, this is not the time for that!” Leo, now with a very prominent blush decorating his face, chided himself under his breath and shook his head to rid of such indecent thoughts toward his brother. “He’s had a restless night and here you are, repaying him with your perverse thoughts for crying out loud! Keep it together Leo…He’s…Donnie’s probably not even into you in that way anyway…”

Unfortunately, it was much easier said than done. 

It had been quite a while since the last time Leonardo was actually able to see his purple-banded brother this vulnerable and physically close to him – aside from their nightly patrols where focus took precedence, of course - enough to touch, to hold and to study every part of his being and to adore everything – every single trait and detail, even the smallest and seemingly most inconsequential of all, that made Donnie the turtle he was. The fact that he could actually beheld Donnie up-close like he was at that moment really made Leo smile, a sweet subtle smile, torn between the feeling of happiness and the sensation of longing – longing for something so precious, so desired and yet so far out of reach. 

Oh how he had, for weeks after the huge discovery, longed to reach out and hold Don against himself, to realize the fantasies of having his genius brother in his arms and whispering confessions of affection to him, and yet, just the single thought that Donnie might find him and his actions repulsive filled Leo’s head with dread like none he had ever experienced. 

“Sigh…You’re so close and yet so far away, Donnie…” he whispered as he continued his treatment in silence, and still Donatello showed no sign of waking up any time soon. His movements then came to a sudden halt, however, as Leo heard something coming out from the genius’ mouth. 

And what he heard made that blush return again, this time with a vengeance of its own.

“…Love you, too, Leo…” Donnie mumbled in his sleep, a smile on his face.

At that exact point in time, the door opened and Raphael decided to walk to him, much to the oldest turtle’s dismay. 

“Heya, Leo!” Raphael waved and whispered to avoid rousing Donnie, having been warned by master Splinter prior to his entrance, “Glad to see ya awake, but...” he paused a bit upon approaching and studying the blue-clad ninja’s face, acidic green eyes analytically taking in and studying every detail on the other’s face, “Your face looks kinda red, still feverish?” 

Immediately, Raph pressed his rough hand against his brother’s forehead to check his temperature.

“I’m fine, Raph,” replied Leonardo sheepishly after a forced cough, attempting to rid himself of the unnatural color to the best of his ability. “Maybe a bit hot and all…” 

“If ya say so,” the bulkier turtle shrugged dismissively and sat down. “So…how was the rest? Sure ya feeling fine?”

“I’m sure, thanks,” replied Leo with a small smile at his brother’s sheepish expression. Raphael had never been one for sentimental conversations, that much was clear, and to see that same brother sitting right in front of him asking small questions about his health made Leo’s stomach swell with joy and no small amount of pride. 

“…I see the dork’s finally asleep,” Raphael spoke up again after a brief moment of silence between the two, his eyes now latched onto the sleeping ninja in purple on the opposite side of the sickbed. “About time, too, especially after all the madness last night…” he added, but Leonardo, being the second most perceptive individual in the family, quickly picked up on a well-masked sentiment in that hushed whisper, but what exactly, he did not know yet.

“Hey Raph,” Leo spoke up, catching the other’s attention, “What happened after we fought that scorpion mutant?” 

“How much do you remember?” 

“Not much to be honest…I saw Donnie in danger, and I jumped in front of him…Then there’s a wave of intense pain coming from my leg and then, nothing…” 

“…Ya got poisoned, bad,” Raphael began his narrative, voice low and his face serious, “And Don’s been beating himself up about it.”

“It wasn’t his fault…” Leo started, but was quickly cut off. 

“We know, but in that thick egghead of his, it was,” Raph interjected with a sigh as he looked at the genius. He went on to mumbling something else under his breath, a scowl on his face, but unfortunately, it was too soft for Leo to pick up. Before he could ask, Raph resumed, “From what little sensei told us, he seems to be fine now, but I’m not entirely sure. Well, it’s lucky now that he’s resting.”

“Yeah…So what happened during the time I was out?” Leonardo asked, curious and worried.

“Yeah, so…Donnie tried to make a cure, but he didn’t have the required ingredient to complete it, so we had to…well…resort to something dangerous…”

“What?” Leo pressed, his worry now overriding his curiosity. “You didn’t rob any hospitals, did you?”

“No!” Raph replied, but quickly dropped his voice again when he heard a moan coming from Donnie, “No. We…struck a deal and…bartered with Stinkman…” 

“You did what?” Leo exclaimed this time, but he, like his brother, was quick to lower his voice once more when he heard Donatello groan and turn in his sleep again. With a hushed yet no less grim tone, the leader continued on with his questions, his face set in the most serious of expressions, “What did you use to barter?”

“…The antidote for Don’s…leftover retro-mutagen…” Raph admitted and looked away momentarily, but even then, he could practically feel Leo’s shocked stare peering into him before it was replaced by an intense gaze aimed at the side of his head. It was very hard to ignore, much to Raph’s dismay. 

“You…You gave the Foot the retro-mutagen?” Leonardo began, barely able to suppress his volume, “Raph! Have you any idea how crazy and stupid that was?”

“What? You were going to give the retro-mutagen to depower that scorpion punk anyway, right?” Raph shot back, feeling a bit defensive at the accusatory tone of his older brother.

“Yes, but according to Donnie, when given to a host, the retro-mutagen will disappear along with the mutation,” Leo countered, “It is much different than giving the enemy’s scientist a working sample of the retro-mutagen, which he can easily replicate with the right tools and even weaponize and then use it to threaten our safety!”

“Oh…” Raph’s face fell as realization dawned on him, but before he could get anything out, Leonardo continued with his speech, cutting off any attempts at explanation his red-banded brother was looking to make.

“What the heck were you thinking back there, Raphael, just giving the retro-mutagen to the Foot? You may have doomed us all and even April with that...mmmm….” he went on heatedly, and to Raph’s horror, he saw Donatello stir and begin to open his eyes wearily. 

“Shh!” the bulky turtle quickly pressed one hand over his blue-banded brother’s mouth and effectively silenced him. “Donnie’s here…” 

“Raph?” Donatello asked wearily, his eyes half-lidded and his voice cracking a bit. 

“It’s okay, Donnie,” the addressed turtle reassured with a nervous smile, “Go back to sleep. It’s my shift now.”

“Mmmm…’kay…” replied the half-lucid turtle and then, his eyes closed again. Seconds later, both Raph and Leo heard soft snores coming out of the purple-clad turtle, and both released collective sighs of relief. 

Leo, having calmed down after that, deflated and sat back. Taking in deep breaths and exhaling sharply, he managed to calm down his nerves and regain control over his composure at last. However, the problem remained. 

“You didn’t answer my question, Raph,” Leo began again, catching his brother’s attention. “What the heck were you thinking?”

“I…” Raph was about to voice his protest, but the sound of the door opening stopped him immediately. Looking at the entrance, both Leonardo and Raphael spotted their father and Michelangelo, the latter was carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of food for the sick.

“You must understand that your brothers had no choice but to heed the enemy’s ultimatum, Leonardo,” master Splinter spoke up and he and the orange-banded turtle approached the sickbed. “For it was a difficult decision to make, but Raphael and your youngest brothers decided on that course of action anyway, for your life is definitely more valuable to us, and to me, they made the right call.”

“That’s right, dude,” Mikey chimed in this time, and surprisingly, his normally radiant and beaming face was downcast, made even more depressing by the dim light within the lab. “We couldn’t afford to lose you…again…” the youngest ninja’s voice hitched toward the end, effectively strumming at the leader’s heartstrings. 

Hearing that made whatever lingering anger leave Leo’s mind immediately as he looked around to face the gathered visitors, and he quickly looked down, hands shakily and tightly grapping the blanket covering him. And thus, with a soft and apologetic voice, Leonardo addressed his family members. 

“I’m sorry for my outburst,” he said with a bow directed at his father and two younger brothers, much to the latter’s surprise. “You were thinking about me the whole time and I snapped at you unreasonably.” 

“It’s cool, dude,” Mikey was quick to reassure the leader, and soon, Raph joined in as well, speaking in his gruff voice. 

“Yeah, if yer gone, who’s gonna start a fight with me? It’s not like these dweebs have the balls to do something like that,” Raph said smugly, pointing to and promptly ignoring a hushed cry from a frowning Michelangelo, and that alone made Leo smile and chuckle in amusement.

“Yeah, yeah…Good to know I’m good for something like that,” Leo replied, sarcastic. 

“Everything aside, right now, let us celebrate the fact that you are with us, Leonardo. I will make some tea to help soothe your nerves. Michelangelo, please let your brother enjoy his breakfast. And Raphael, please kindly put Donatello to his proper bed. It will not be a pleasant experience when he wakes up sleeping in such an uncomfortable posture.” 

“Yes, sensei,” replied both Mikey and Raph simultaneously before they set out to work. Swiftly, Raphael easily swooped up Donatello in bridal style, leaning the genius’ head against his plastron and relieved that the genius remained asleep still. Quickly, Raph walked out of the lab and disappeared out of the entrance seconds later with their master.  
Soon, only Mikey and Leo remained inside the lab, and from the way the youngest was looking at him with his big blue eyes and trembling lips, Leonardo knew for sure that he had a lot to talk about.

And he did not need to wait very long.

“How are you feeling, Leo?” asked the younger as he placed tray containing the newly made bowl of porridge on Leo’s lab, and instantly, the smell of the light breakfast was more than enough to make the hungry turtle’s stomach growl in impatience. Mikey snickered, amused. 

“Like I told sensei and Raph a while ago, I’m feeling fine,” Leonardo replied with a cough to mask his blush at the sudden and admittedly, embarrassing noise his body had produced. Mikey’s amusement, however, seemed to increase, based on the stifled snickers escaping his lips. 

“Well, your mouth says one thing and your belly protests, quite vehemently I must say, dude. So eat up! Chef Michelangelo has personally set aside some of his precious time from his crazy schedule to prepare this meal, so savor it.”

“What an honor indeed,” asked Leo as he picked up his spoon, somewhat humored by the younger terrapin’s childish antics. Blowing lightly on the portion in front of his mouth to cool it down a bit, Leo then consumed it, and in an instant, his eyes widened visibly as the various more subtle favors inside the dish practically exploded inside his mouth before the warmth spread to his stomach and soon, his entire body. It felt especially satisfying. 

“I take that you enjoy it,” Mikey remarked proudly, smirking to himself upon seeing the beaming expression on the leader’s face. 

“Yeah…It’s delicious and easy to swallow. Thanks, Mike.” 

“No problemo, bro,” Leo heard Mikey say and continued eating, this time slightly bit faster and more eagerly. Within the brief span of five minutes, the entire bowl was done, and Leonardo leaned back on his flopped up pillow, a soft and content sigh escaping his lips.

“That…” he began and turned around to look at Mikey, “definitely hit the spot. I’m feeling like normal already.”

“Glad to hear. Want seconds?” Mikey asked as he retrieved the tray and placed it on the floor. Leonardo looked at Mikey’s beaming face for a while, silently taking in the sight of Mikey’s eyes and chubby cheeks in front of him. Mikey looked so wonderfully innocent and so adorable at that moment, and at once, an intention was instantly concocted inside Leo’s mind then and there.

And since they were alone for now, Leo knew he had to move quickly – ninja-like quickly, something he was quiet versed in. 

To the younger’s apparent surprise, the newly recovered turtle suddenly shot him a very mischievous grin, his sparkly blue eyes narrowing and one corner of his mouth twitching upward as he regarded the younger, currently fidgeting and nervous turtle.

“Oh, I would love to…” Leonardo began as he leaned forward on his bed toward Michelangelo, who seemed to have been paralyzed in place by a sudden spell cast upon him by the other’s husky tone. He knew what was about to come, and yet, Mikey could not seem to resist. Grinning even wider at the other’s stillness, Leonardo continued until his face was merely inches away from Mikey’s madly blushing one. 

“Now that’s one delicious-looking tomato,” said Leo, flicking his tongue across his own lips, and to his satisfaction, Mikey’s face grew even hotter than before at the simple, feathery touch. “I heard tomatoes are good for someone with a fever, lots of vitamin and all, so maybe it’s not such a bad idea to try some now, is it…my lovely chef?”

“I…suppose…” Mikey started but sadly was not able to finish his own thoughts, for his voice immediately turned into a series of desperate gasps and moans at the expert touches of Leo’s lips against the skin on his neck. The older turtle traveled up and down along Mikey’s skin and soon, he stopped a moment to savor the sweet taste of the younger turtle’s chin, forcing Mikey to lift his head and allow him better access. 

“Hmm, now for some protein to regain lost energy…how about this meatball here?” whispered Leo seductively, and before Michelangelo could say something, he felt Leonardo suck hard on his laryngeal prominence; soft yet incredibly naughty churrs were let out, escaping the younger’s throat in stream.

“Hmm…A meal in bed with pleasant accompanying musical arrangements…what fine services you offer, chef, I can’t wait to see what else you have in store,” remarked Leonardo cheekily as he stopped his treatment and went back to looking at Mikey’s eyes, taking in the absolutely delectable sight of those blue orbs visibly clouded by his arousal and his more primal urges. 

“Now,” Leo continued as he slowly and teasingly brought his own face toward Mikey and at the same time wrapped one free hand around the smaller turtle’s head to pull him in. Mikey, flustered and looking as if he was caught in a trance, made no move to resist. Instead, he only stayed still and allowed Leo to direct the course, much to the former’s glee, “I would like to order some refreshments.”

“…Sure…” Mikey mumbled shortly before his lips were locked by Leo’s, and his mouth invaded by the foreign tongue of the other turtle. Mikey could feel the appendage explore his inside, thoroughly and meticulously, leaving absolutely no corner of his mouth and cheeks unclaimed. 

Excited by the passionate kiss, Mikey’s body heated up and he began to feel his private part twitching in anticipation. However, Leo made no move to touch it yet, and only played with Mikey’s tongue alone. This play would continue on for a while longer before Leonardo broke off the kiss and looked at the younger ninja, now all disoriented and reduced to a needy panting mess.

“Get up here, Mikey, and stand before me,” said the blue-banded turtle, and the orange-clad hastily obeyed, climbing on top of Leo and adjusted his body so that his lower portion was at the exact level of the blue-banded turtle’s face. Smirking, Leo then reached one hand out and began to tenderly massage the spot between the other’s legs, gently coaxing the erection to make its big appearance. 

And he did not wait long. 

Seconds later, one throbbing and fully erect penis emerged from its hiding spot, twitching excitedly and very eagerly asking to be touched. When Leo looked up, he saw the owner was faring no better; his eyes were shut tightly closed, his mouth agape and his muscles tense visibly.

“May I have some milk, chef? But I prefer mine…fresh from the barn,” Leo asked teasingly before he grabbed Mikey’s manhood and began to move his hand, agonizingly slowly at first and picking up the pace little by little as the seconds ticked away. The responses he got from the other were nothing less than exquisite with the excitable moans and grunts of ecstasy continuously assaulting his hearing and encouraging him to go further. 

“Bon appetite,” Leonardo muttered slyly before he leaned closer and gave the exposed tip a small lick, causing the other to shiver. Leo, wasting no more time, took Mikey’s shaft into his mouth, bit by bit, until his lips finally touched the base. His actions caused the orange-banded ninja’s senses to become chaotic, filling his body with a plethora of delightful sensations all at once. The warmth and at the same time wetness of Leo’s mouth and tongue wrapping around his penis sent a jolt of pleasure up and down his spine like a current of electricity electrifying his entire being and causing him to convulse on instinct. 

Then, Leonardo wrapped his hands around Mikey’s waist and pulled him even closer. As time passed, Leonardo continued to suck harder and harder, and before long, Mikey’s endurance finally could no carry on the fight. Voluntarily, the orange-banded ninja buckled his hips and yelled against the closed lab. 

“L-Leo…Ahhh…” he grunted as he felt the sign of his nearing the explosive climax, “I’m gonna…I’m gonna…Argh…” 

In response, Leonardo simply picked up the pace even more and sucked with more vigor and enthusiasm than before, intent on making Mikey’s endurance crumble.

One of Leo’s hands then found its way toward Mikey’s unsuspecting tail, and gave it a sudden jerk, causing Mikey’s body to go rigid at once. 

“Coming!” Michelangelo exclaimed loudly as he released his thick loads inside Leo, who more than eagerly sucked and gulped down everything his partner had so graciously and so generously given him without wasting a single drop. As ever, the sweet and slightly bitter taste of Mikey’s essence was ever so incredible and so filling. 

Once the last drop had been shot out, Leo pulled back and at once, Michelangelo crumbled to the bed and straight into his blue-banded ninja’s waiting arms, panting and breathing heavily as he experienced the aftermath of his climax. Though he had been subjected to this sensation multiple times, Mikey could never get used to it nor did he think he would ever would. 

Not that he minded, of course. 

It took a while for his mind to clear and his body to function normally again. And once they did, Mikey looked into Leo’s affectionate eyes and smiled sweetly. 

“…Thirds?” he asked in between breaths, a touch of mischief and humor lacing his tone, which the other did not fail to catch. Immediately, Leonardo chuckled in amusement and rubbed the younger’s scalp gently, his caress soft and tender. 

“Nah,” he began, and felt his snickers coming back at the sight of Mikey’s adorable pout. However, he easily resisted the look and went on, “I'm not a fan of heavy breakfasts so I think I'm saving my belly for later. Now come on, Raph or sensei may return any time soon, and we wouldn’t want them to catch us like this now, would we?”

“Nah…You know how long sensei takes with his tea, and Raph is with Don…” Mikey started, but suddenly, his eyes widened and looked straight into Leo’s own as if a sudden realization had hit him at full force. Leo, momentarily stunned by the sudden action and greatly worried about the safety of the mentioned brother, was about to ask, but Michelangelo was quicker this time. 

“…Speaking of Donnie,” he started, leaning closer for Leonardo to hear only, oblivious to the fact that they were actually alone inside a closed lab. Lowering his voice even further, Mikey resumed, and what Leo heard made his own eyes go wide as well, for the words uttered were not ones he had anticipated nor had he thought he would ever get to hear. 

“This may be a hunch, but I think we may still have a shot with him yet…” said Mikey, and even without looking, Leonardo could practically feel a large grin breaking across his freckled face as he uttered those words.


	9. Stunning Discovery

Left Out  
Chapter 9: Discovery

After carefully placing the purple bundle that was the slumbering genius into his own comfortable yet barely used bed, having moved as quietly as possible and successfully ignored the tickling puffs of hot breath hitting his plastron as he walked, Raphael then attempted to make his exit.

Attempted…

The very moment Raphael stood up to full height and gazed down at the purple-masked turtle before him, sleeping so innocently and appearing so utterly, alluringly vulnerable with all of his guards and wittiness down and practically nonexistent, Raphael felt a sudden yet powerful rush of heat entering his cheeks, painting them in a bashful tinge of red that was not dissimilar to the shade of the most intense of sunsets. The sight of Donatello partially wrapped within his blanket cocoon was absolutely breath-taking for Raph to take in, and harder still for him to go without showcasing his admiration outwardly in a very rare display. Luckily for the tough ninja of the clan, there was nobody around to see it, and such, Raph could therefore treat the happening as if it had never happened and none would be the wiser.

Raph’s widened eyes continued to train on and study the turtle before him, meticulously and longingly taking in and committing to memory every detail that was present on the uncovered part of Donatello’s frame – from the shade of his skin, the bit of exposed flesh of his neck as his head rested against the pillow to the well-developed but lean muscles along the arm that was currently stretched outside the boundary of his blanket. Everything about Donnie at that moment was just so amazingly mesmerizing that it took Raphael everything he knew and had learnt about self-control to actually manage the feat of tearing his eyes away. With haste, his legs moved toward the door. His hands, moving swiftly and desperately with a touch of urgency clearly shown in their frantic movements, locked the door after his speedy exit. 

“Darn it…Now you’re stalking Donnie when he’s sleeping like a creep…Great one, Raph, real great,” the red-banded turtle muttered with a touch of frustration as he stood outside the genius’ personal bedroom, his shell leaning hard against the metal object separating him from the sleeping angel on the other side. 

“Keep it together, Raph. Don’t do anything stupid to Donnie that you’ll regret later…” he chided himself softly and balled his hands into tight fists, resisting the small yet devious voice inside his head, gently and sweetly coaxing him into walking back inside the room to place his claims upon the slumbering genius now that he was truly alone. 

Thankfully, Raphael, with a vigorous shake of his head accompanied by a low growl of frustration, successfully managed to smother all of his within temptations and swiftly, he made his way back to the laboratory once more. Unfortunately, as he walked down the stairs, his thoughts were still haunted by the painfully fresh and perfectly clear images of the asleep purple-banded terrapin - from the way his mostly covered slender form appeared almost angelic underneath the dim lighting of the bedroom to how soft his parted lips seemed to appear, allowing just enough space for the trademark gap to show, one that had lately never failed to send his heart into a chaotic rhythm of beatings and his mind into a frenzy that challenged any and all control over his almost unquenchable urges he could muster. 

With prompt and resolute strides, Raphael quickly stepped on the last of the steps down and away from Donatello’s room. He did not stop to glance back, fearing what that one simple action could do to his state of mind and by extension, the genius’ wellbeing as well.

Only when Raphael arrived in the living room did he allow a breath he never remembered holding in to escape his mouth. At that moment, Raph then heard the low and familiar voice of his master and father calling out to him, asking for his attention. 

“Yes, sensei?” he turned around to greet Master Splinter, who was holding out a tray holding a small cup of newly brewed tea, from which the hot steam could easily be seen pouring out in stream along with the sweet, inviting and distinctive fragrance of ginger mixed within the air. 

“Could you please deliver this cup of tea to Leonardo on your way in?” asked Master Splinter, and immediately, Raph accepted the proffered tray with a nod. 

“Aren’t you coming with me, sensei?”

“Hmm…” Master Splinter hummed thoughtfully to himself as he regarded his son, his gaze indiscernible, “Now that Leonardo is finally up and well, I think I will take some time to rest these weary eyes for a bit. I trust that you and Michelangelo could keep your brother entertained during Donatello’s and my absence for the time being.”

“Of course, sensei. You can count on that.”

With a nod of approval followed by a small smile, the aged ninja master then turned around and entered the dojo for his much-needed respite, leaving Raphael to continue to make his way toward the lab with the delicious treat in his hand. 

When he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, Raph immediately halted, not even making a move forward. 

Leo was sucking Mikey off, on his bed, where he was supposed to be resting.

“Great,” the red-masked turtle snorted, rolling his eyes, “Looks like someone’s fully recovered.”

And Raph continued to stand still and waited for the other two to finish their session, all the while trying his best not to get bothered by the sweet sounds happiness and pleasure coming from Mikey. And when the orange-banded turtle unloaded into Leo’s mouth, he almost dropped the cup of tea. 

“I sure hope this ain’t one of master Splinter’s trainings on self-restraint,” he muttered with a growl, which went unnoticed. 

Raphael patiently waited for a while longer for Mikey to get off Leo’s lap, but his time was wasted. As he looked, the two turtles, still somehow oblivious to his presence, were apparently chatting about something which, in his opinion, appeared to be of utmost significance, judging from the grim and slightly shocked expression that was currently dominating the entire facial expression of the blue-banded leader.

Deciding that he had waited enough and that any longer would make the tea cold, Raph coughed into his fist. At once, both turtles looked his way before the younger scrambling out of the leader’s lab and settling back on his seat, their faces beet-red but still painted with relief. If he was truly honest with himself, Raphael found his curiosity rattled by the strange and highly questionable behavior of his two partners. 

“So…What’s going on beside ya sucking Mikey for breakfast?” Raph asked as he bridged the distance between himself and the others and handed the cup of tea to a still embarrassed Leo, who meekly accepted the cup with both hands. Out of the corner of his eyes, Raph could also see Mikey turn away and avoid looking at him., much to his amusement. 

Leonardo then spent a moment enjoying his ginger tea in the brief seconds of awkward silence. Once the content of the cup was emptied, Leo returned it to Raph to put it away.   
“So?” Raph asked again, a grin on his face. “Ya gonna talk or am I gonna have to squeeze it out of the both ya?” 

Leo shot him a glare, but as usual, it was ineffective. With a cough to clear his throat, Leo began, his voice neutral. 

“…Mikey here thinks he has made a rather shocking discovery,” the blue-banded leader spoke up at last, and Raph simply raised his ridge questioningly. 

“What?” the red-clad brother said, chuckling patronizingly, “A new way to make algae appear more edible?” 

“Hardy-hah, Raph,” Mikey retorted, unamused, “It’s about Donnie,” he quickly added, and in an instant, Raphael’s laughter died down and seriousness returned to his face and tone.

“What about him?” he pressed, concerned that he might have missed something during the madness that had transpired the previous night. “He’s fine, right?” 

“No, this is not about his health, that’s fine,” Mikey replied, waving his hand dismissively and placating the nervous brother. “It’s more something along the line of his…well, orientation.” 

Raph was more surprised inwardly than he was outward.

“What kind of orientation? Sex? Yeah, we all know the egghead’s all over April, that’s established,” Raph replied, but was flabbergasted once more when Michelangelo shook his head gently, his eyes expressing genuineness so unlike the usual beams of mischief which they so very often exuded. Even Leonardo nearby was looking a bit flushed as Mikey spoke, self-consciously massaging his cheek and his eyes fixed on his bed. 

“You didn’t see him, Raph,” Mikey began, leaning forward and lowering his voice as if afraid that the missing turtle would burst into the room at any given moment upon the mention of his name, “When you were busy driving, you didn’t see what Don was doing when he was trying to comfort Leo.” 

“What?”

“He acted a bit…well, more intimately than usual, and even his eyes softened a lot when looked at Leo’s face. It looked like…like, hmm, like when I look at Ice-cream Kitty when she meows and licks my beak…you know, with adoration and all.” 

“Honestly, Mikey, ya look like ya want to hurl the entire thing down yer mouth in one gulp whenever ya look at that kitty,” Raph replied, voice flat and his face unimpressed. In return, Mikey stuck out his tongue at him before continuing. 

“That's beside the point, and I know what I saw, Raph,” Mikey insisted, serious, “He had this, I don’t know how to say it, maybe some sort of longing in his eyes when he looked at Leo, and the way he caressed Leo’s cheek with his fingers, so soft and tender like that, it kinda makes a guy question his true preference.”

Leo felt his cheeks getting hotter as he listened to that, as Raph noticed.

“I ain’t buying it. Ya could have been imagining it, knucklehead,” Raph sighed, “Look, we all know this well that Don’s been all about April since that first trip topside, and so far, there’s been absolutely no solid indication that points toward the possibility that he’s interested in dudes, much less, us – his family, brothers!”

“Technically, we’re all adopted,” Mikey cut in, raising one finger, but Raph paid him no mind and went on.

“…I know all of us dream of him that way, but let’s face it, the chances of him having something more intimate than brotherly feelings toward us are as long and as flimsy as his Bo stick.”

“Technically, that’s called a Bo staff,” Leo chimed in, but nobody paid him any mind. 

“Oh, we don’t know it yet,” Mikey retorted, pouting a little and stubbornly maintain his ground in the discussion, “For all we know, Donnie hasn’t been acting all gung-ho and crazy like a puppy begging for treats around April since we got back to the city, so maybe that’s an indication of something, right? Maybe he’s not into April the way he did anymore.” 

“Let’s not jump to conclusions here, okay,” Leo interjected kindly, trying to act as the voice of reason as always, “As much as I want Donnie to accept us like we have each other, I’m afraid that Donnie’s like a big walking question mark, always has been with all the man-of-truth behavior and all. So whether he’s batting for our team or not is a mystery that’s gonna be tough to figure out. Therefore, until we do ascertain what Mikey said, let’s just act like usual and avoid spooking him, okay,” Leonardo ended with a note of finality, and yet, to the others, they could also detect a hint of hope buried deep within the authoritative front. 

“Having to do things behind his back really sucks, you know,” Raph said after a brief moment of silence and with a grunt, but Leo could tell the underlying hint of acknowledgement in his rough and gruff tone of frustration. “Not to mention, the dojo ain’t exactly my first choice of location, either.”

“But you know our rooms are off-limit, Raph,” Leo replied, “And so are the living room and the bathroom. If Donnie sees us inside any of our rooms too often, I’m sure he’s gonna catch on that something is going on. And I don’t even have to start on the living room. Too many risks and too many wrongs in so many levels…”

“Yeah, dudes,” Mikey chimed in, “Here’s better, all spacey and airy for a good time rolling!”

“Agreed,” Raph suddenly smirked and wetted his lips, “And in here, ya can be as loud as ya want without fearing anything. Bet’ cha love that, huh, Mikey…” 

“Okay, you two, stop there, let’s get back on point,” Leo shook his head and stopped his other brothers before their control over their urges slipped and got pulverized by those same urges altogether. “Let’s do something else before you two become irrepressible sex machines again.” 

“Yeah, said the maniac that practically asked for one right after getting up from being poisoned,” Raph chided, and a smirk broke on his face the moment Leo’s face turned a sweet shade of red at the statement. Unable to pass up such a wonderful chance to rile the older turtles, Mikey was quick to put in his taunts.

“Mirror mirror on the wall,” Mikey chimed in, his voice a sing-song tone as he looked at a flustered and clearly disturbed Leonardo in bed, “Who’s the horniest of them all? Ooh! Leo loves down on the knees, while Raphie lets his willie free!” 

As soon as he finished, Mikey shot up and got as far away from Raph as possible. 

“That’s it!” Raph exclaimed with a mock frown before he chased after the gleefully retreating younger turtle. “Stop moving around and lemme finish what I started yesterday, Mikey!” 

“Gotta catch me first, Raphie-boy!” Michelangelo shouted back as he nimbly leaped over Donnie’s worktable and continued to run around the lab in circles, with Raph running close behind, ready to catch him the moment he slipped up.

“Stop it, you two!” Leo tried to tell his two more dynamic turtles to cease their foolishness, but to his dismay, his voice fell on deaf ears, and Raph and Mikey continued their ninja-level game of tag around the lab, completely disregarding their surroundings. 

Moments later, when Mikey was about to make for the door, Raph saw an opportunity and instantly seized it. With a strong sprint, Raph landed on top of the worktable and quickly used the object to further increase the distance of his subsequent leap. Though Michelangelo was fast, he was sadly stopped in place when his body was crushed underneath the plastron of a much heavier turtle.

“Got’ cha now!” Raph exclaimed triumphantly before he proceeded to place both of his arms under the pinned turtle’s. Swiftly and expertly, he then locked his hands directly behind Mikey’s head, successfully executing a perfect full Nelson hold to trap Mikey in place, rendering him immobile.

“Looks like ya in a bind, now, Mike,” Raph exclaimed with a touch of satisfaction before he roughly hauled the younger turtle up to both feet, causing the latter to yelp in surprise and a bit of pain. Mikey continued to scream and struggled to free himself from the tight grip of the red-banded ninja, who was, at the same time, also quite a wrestling enthusiast with moderate knowledge on that profession. 

“Give up?” Raph teasingly and smugly asked. Mikey, in retaliation and defiance, continued his struggle.

“Nope!”

The orange-banded ninja then swiftly locked both of his hands before his forehead and brought his elbows together with practiced precision, supporting his head backward and effectively cancelling the hold of the hold Raph had on him. At the same time, Michelangelo also bent his knees, causing Raphael’s hold under his arm to loosen out when gravity took effect and pulled his body down. Once the hold was lax enough, the orange-clad ninja agilely placed both of his hands on Raph’s shoulders and used them as platforms to perform a back flip, successfully landing right behind Raph afterward. Within the course of a few seconds, Mikey was free from his captor’s grasp and once again roaming unchecked around Donnie’s lab, laughing all the way and further challenging Raphael’s patience. 

“Too bad, Raph!” he taunted and this time ran toward the far corner of the lab where the controls of Donnie’s monitors were situated, as Leo noted with terror in his eyes.  
“Wait! Mikey!” Leo tried again, louder this time, but like before, his overly eager and playful brothers were not in the mood to listen. Leonardo continued to helplessly watch from his bed as Raphael and Michelangelo wrestled with one another in very close proximity to Donnie’s fragile and dangerous machines. 

Before he could get up to separate the two, however, a loud bang was heard echoing inside the entire lab when Raph accidentally pressed against his partner a bit too roughly against the controls, causing Mikey to topple backward and unintentionally hit his elbow on a red button behind him. 

In an instant, various screens simultaneously flared to life, illuminating that darkened corner of the darkened laboratory and showing the different angles and locations within the maze-like sewers, all of which were taken from well-hidden and strategically placed cameras installed by the family after having their home invaded one too many times.

The sections of the sewer shown on the screen looked exactly the same, completely empty of human and mutant presences alike, but those were not what captivated the attention of the two brightly-banded turtles at that moment. No, the one that was currently enthralling them was a very small, seemingly insignificant and easily overlooked screen installed a bit further to the right from the rest of the bigger ones. 

“Dudes…Is this what I think it is?” Mikey began, his voice coming out shakily as his lower lips trembled, stunned by the sight that greeted his eyes when he peered into the area displayed on that one small screen, and next to him, Raphael also appeared stunned, much to Leonardo’s bewilderment. 

“What’s wrong, guys?” the leader asked, worried that they might have broken something important and consequently doomed Donnie into another full night spent locked inside his lab for a senseless repair. However, the two did not reply to his question, causing Leo to personally get out of his bed and approach their location. 

“If you break something, you’d better be ready for one really peeved Donnie, guys. You know how he…is…” Leo stopped short as he, too, finally got to see what his brothers were gawking at, and his blood immediately ran cold – even for reptile’s standards.

“What...What the heck?” Raph mumbled, too shocked to even muster up the energy needed for a shout. “Isn’t that…”

“…The view of our…dojo…” Mikey finished the sentence, his eyes the widest they had ever been.

It was a stunning discovery indeed, for even after ten minutes had come to pass, none of the present turtles could utter anything. Instead, they remained deathly still, their eyes tightly locked onto the flickering screen before them and their mouths agape - testaments to the whirling maelstrom of emotions that all of them were experiencing at that exact moment.


	10. Revelation

Left Out

Chapter 10: Revelation

“Dude...” Mikey, being the first one to recover from the initial surprise, spoke up meekly and turned to his brothers, his voice sheepish and subdued. “Does this mean, Donnie…he…he knows?” he said, voice hitching and blue eyes wide.

For a moment, silence greeted his question before a soft and tired sigh was released from Leo’s lips.

“Yes…It would seem to be the case here, Mikey,” Leonardo replied with a shake of his head, “Donnie’s always been smarter than we give him credit for...I really should have known he would have figured out something was off with the way we were acting around him…”

“But that means…” Raph started, but he did not get far, for Leonardo cut in, his posture slumped and his body heavy.

“Yeah, Raph,” Leo muttered, his eyes trained on the screen, “That means we have to talk to him now and…hope that he’s…he isn’t disgusted with the idea of living with us.”

Mikey and Raph had nothing to say to that, and instead, they just continued to stare blankly at the flickering screens for a while longer before they switched them off and got Leo back in bed.

“Now what?” Mikey said at last, uncertain and concerned.

“Now,” Raph sighed and crossed his arms before his chest, turning his gaze toward the exit, “We wait.”

“And have our fingers crossed,” Leo joined in as he lied down once more.

And wait they did. Inside the quiet laboratory, they would continue to sit in silence and wait - a wait that would span for the next two hours until it at last came to its end.   

…

When consciousness was upon him, Donatello began to stir in his bed, his eyes fluttering before they were opened, clouded still by the stubborn lingering sleepiness, and it would take another five minutes for the tired turtle to finally, albeit with much difficulty involved, prevail in his quest to quell the urges to succumb to another sweet allure of sleep.

Sitting up slowly and shaking his comfortable blanket off of his frame, Donatello then began to look around to study his current surroundings. His eyes required a few more seconds to become adjusted to the dim light inside the room, but the moment they did, Donatello suddenly felt a bit panic when he found that he was not in the laboratory, and most importantly, not sitting by Leonardo’s side, which was the last thing he remembered doing.  That panic did not last long, thankfully.

“Oh, Raph must have carried me here then…” he muttered absent-mindedly, vaguely remembering Raphael’s soft and hushed voice gently coaxing him to go back to sleep. Letting out a huge yawn and stretching his body to rid the tiredness of his muscles, Donnie got out of his bed and subsequently, out of the room.

Swiftly, the purple-clad turtle then made his way toward the lab in order to see if Leo had awaken or not.

The moment Donnie opened the door to his lab and stepped inside, he immediately stopped in his track, momentarily frozen in place by the three pair of eyes that simultaneously landed on him and seemingly alarmed by his presence. The purple-banded turtle, slightly puzzled, took a few seconds to study the alertness that was practically oozing out from his brothers’ bodies, along with something he could not quite identify.

The situation, as he assessed, was most perplexing, for even though he had wrecked his brain, Donnie could not think of a reason that would make his brothers panic at his presence.

That was unless, his mind immediately told him, and his eyes at once widened in alarm at the thought, he had accidentally stumbled on one of their intimate sessions, and that thought made him gulp involuntarily.

Realizing that the other three turtles had yet to move from their spots, and that their eyes still remained stubbornly glued to him, Donatello regained control of his body functions and offered them a small wave of greeting, half torn by a pang of sadness wrought by exclusion and half by the embarrassment of having walked in on something private. Still, a calm expression dominated his face, and outwardly, nobody could tell the difference.  

“Hey, guys,” he began, his voice helpfully cracking a bit from the sleep and effectively masking the nervousness boiling within him, and tried to plaster a toothy smile on his face. “What’s going on?”

Silence served as his response for a moment.

The eerie and suffocating veil of silence left his question hanging on the air, unanswered, and Donatello suddenly found himself fidgeting slightly against his will, fingers twirling around each other in a self-conscious fashion and his eyes moving from one brother to another precariously.

“Okay…so…” he started again and took a small step backward, “I see that Leo’s awake now. That’s good,  so I guess I’ll get back to my sleep…” he gestured awkwardly toward the only exit, and only then did the others snap out of their trance-like states and spoke up, a desperate note lacing their cries.

“No, wait!” Raphael shouted out, making Donatello jump in surprise at the loud tone tearing through the quietness of the room unexpectedly. The volume of his voice seemed to double as it bounced off the walls around the lab before it assaulted his hearing, further encouraging the reaction. Realizing that fact as well, Raphael took a second to lower his voice before he once again addressed his purple-clad brother.

“Donnie, wait,” he repeated, softly this time, and made a careful move to walk toward Donatello.

“Okay…” replied the taller terrapin, bewildered and somewhat bothered by the uncomfortable antics of his most boisterous and confident brother. Raph smoothly shut the door of the lab behind him once he was close, and Donnie had no choice but to move forward and at last came to sit down at the vacant seat next to Leo’s bed, with Mikey sitting on the opposite side, fidgeting on his seat and acting nervous.

Though he was inwardly very tense due to the strange and indiscernible looks the others were shooting him, Donnie tried his best to maintain his calm and composed façade. Clearing his voice with a polite cough, he spoke up, his voice shattering the silence between them.

“So, Leo…I see you’re awake,” he said, and instantly chided himself in his mind for saying the most obvious thing in the world, twice to be precise. Swiftly, he added so as not to appear awkward, “How are you feeling?”

“…I’m feeling fine, thanks to all of your help,” the blue-banded brother replied with an appreciative smile directed at him, to which Donnie was grateful.

“Thank goodness…” he said sincerely and with a breath of relief, placing one hand on his heart to emphasize his point. Then, with a radiant smile, Donatello looked at Leonardo once more and resumed, “That’s good news indeed, but if you experience any discomfort, no matter how trivial it may seem, inform me immediately, okay? We still don’t know if the antidote has any other side effects on your body or not, so it’s better to be cautious about every little thing.”

Leonardo stayed silent for a while, spending that time staring at him, much to Donnie’s puzzlement and slight discomfort. Thankfully, Leo spoke up again soon, “Sure.” And at the moment, Donnie could have sworn his brother’s cheeks were oddly colored, but he was uncertain of the fact. Before he could, however, Mikey quickly chimed in, attracting Donnie’s attention toward himself.

“Hey D., how was your nap?” he asked smoothly and casually, but having spent hours with Mikey, Donnie could tell there was something – a very subtle something – that seemed forced about that cheerful tone that Donnie could not quite pinpoint. He decided to keep his observations to himself and humor his baby brother, nonetheless.

“Pretty good, actually,” Donnie replied with a small, polite smile of his own, “And truth to be told, I don’t think I’ve ever had a rest that wonderful for a while now. Reminds me how much my body needed a good nap to recharge every once in a while.”

“Yeah,” Raphael spoke up this time as he stood behind Don, “Ya should sleep more, Don, staying up all day for days and then going patrols night after night ain’t exactly a way to extend your lifespan.”

“Chillax, Raph,” Donatello huffed and gave his red-banded brother a dismissive wave, “We’re turtles by nature, so I’m sure I can enjoy quite a long life.”

“That may be, but it still doesn’t give you a valid excuse to overwhelm yourself by overworking, Don,” Leo chimed in, a frown on his face, now reassuming his authoritative tone and facial expression again now that one of his clan member’s health was called in for discussion.

“Yeah, yeah…” Donnie waved him off as usual with a grin. He was about to say something else, but a sudden growl from his stomach cut him off and at the same time alerted the others as well.

“Hungry?” Mikey asked rhetorically.  

“Oops…” Donatello muttered with a small, sheepish smile this time. “I kind of forgot I pretty much didn’t eat anything all night yesterday. Excuse me.”

“Ooh, leave it to me!” Mikey suddenly shot up and exclaimed, “I’ve made plenty of porridge for Leo. Wait here, D., and I’ll reheat them real fast.” With his piece said, the orange-banded ninja disappeared through the door within the span of a few seconds.

The other two that stayed behind, as Donatello assessed, seemed tense when he looked at them. And neither Leo nor Raph looked at him in the eye.

Hesitantly, Donatello coughed into his hand again to capture the older turtles’ attention and decided that he could no longer tolerate this uncomfortable atmosphere any longer. Thus, he opted to go straight into the heart of the problem itself, his voice careful and measured.

“Okay, let’s be honest here. What’s wrong with you three?”  Donnie could feel a flinch behind him, but he was not entirely certain of the fact. Leo, on the other hand, appeared as calm as usual, as least in Donnie’s eyes he did. 

“What makes you ask that?” Leonardo asked, voice neutral.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Donnie answered, “Maybe because of the fact that you’ve acting unusually strange and tense for some reason ever since I came in here. This isn’t about the sickness right?” he added, eyes narrowed and meticulously studying the turtle in bed for any telltale signs of discomfort. Leo was quick to placate the inner doctor in his genius brother.

“No, of course not. I’m fine, Donnie. I feel like normal now. A bit more sleep later today and I’m sure I’ll be back on my feet and training first thing tomorrow.”

“Really?” asked the skeptical voice of the purple-banded ninja, “No nausea? No upset stomach? No coughing, no irritability or anything like that?”

“No, no and no,” Leo replied, chuckling a bit at Donnie’s concern, which he privately found touching and adorable, “I promise. I can walk around just fine now. Raph can vouch for that.”

“It’s true,” Raph agreed with a shrug of his shoulders.   

“…Okay then,” Donatello settled down in his chair and exhaled in relief, his shoulders relaxing visibly and his tension disappearing from his posture. “So that means, we can get back to the matter at hand,” he spoke up again after a brief interval of silence which lasted less than ten seconds, much to the older turtles’ dismay. “You never did answer my question. What’s wrong with you three? You’re acting…sneaky and secretive and…well, suspicious.”

Unconsciously, Donatello’s voice grew softer and softer toward the end of his question, and at the last syllables, it was practically a whisper.

From where he was facing the purple-banded ninja, Leonardo could catch glimpse of his downcast eyes and a brief appearance of something akin to sadness crossing his face at the distinct lack of answer from himself and Raph, while at the same time, from behind, Raphael, with a small grimace present on his face, spotted his genius brother’s hands tightly curled fists as if he was bracing himself for something – something which Raph and Leo knew and dreaded.

“Or perhaps…” Donatello continued after a while, wholly oblivious to the others’ analytical gazes directed at him, “Perhaps…”

“Donnie?” Leo voiced his concern immediately upon hearing Donnie’s voice again, not liking the abrupt silence that was hovering in the air afterward.

Donatello did not continue, and instead, he remained still in his seat, persistently not meeting the leader’s eyes. A few seconds later, however, he finally let out a soft sigh and looked up, another small smile forming on his face, one which Leonardo had almost no trouble calling bluff.

“…It’s nothing important,” the genius assured, miraculously able to keep his voice from shaking under all the whirling emotions raging within his mind and heart at that moment. Smiling his toothy smile and widening it a little more in hope of convincing the others, Donatello then got up to his feet and stretched his back, satisfied when he felt his bone stretching along with the act.

“Yeah, that felt good. I think I’m gonna get some more rest, okay. Like you said, I definitely could use more of that. You can eat the porridge Mikey’s reheating, Leo. You should have some nutrition inside your system to speed up your body’s recovery after all,” Donatello said and without waiting for anyone, he made his way toward the door, silently hoping that he could escape this maddening atmosphere without interruption.

But of course, life is never about what we want.  

The moment he turned his back on his older brothers, they secretly locked eyes with one another, immediately engaged in their own silent discussion where no words were uttered and yet their ideas could still be gotten across through their gaze alone. Raph’s glare was hard and intense, while Leo’s gaze was more of concern and worry. When Donatello was halfway toward the exit, they reached a consensus and at the same time, they shouted out the purple-banded turtle’s name, causing the addressed to halt.

“Wait a minute, Donnie,” Leonardo started, uncertain and a bit hesitant. “Could you…could you stay around and wait for Mikey to return?”

“Why?” asked the tallest ninja, turning his head around to glance at the two.

Raphael let out an exasperated sigh and crossed his hands over his chest, a frown reigning on his face, “We have something important to tell ya. It’s important and kinda…private.”

“Oh…” Donnie replied, still unsure whether he should stay or leave.

“Please, Donnie,” Leonardo, recognizing the reluctance displayed in his tallest brother’s body language, tried to convince him to stay. In reply, Donnie stayed where he was and considered, and it took a while longer until the voice in his head urged him to do as the older turtles had requested.

“ _Well_ …” he mentally sighed, “If I’m lucky, _maybe they’ll come clean and say what they usually say to my face and I don’t have to bear it inside me anymore…”_

With hesitant steps back to his seat, Donatello made his way over to Leo’s bed and sat down again. Afterward, all three turtles sat still in complete silence, nobody uttering a single sound.

To Leonardo and Raphael’s great distaste and worry, Donnie’s mood seemed to get worse and worse as time idled by, and they could only mentally pray that Mikey would return soon so that they could get this discussion started and finally rid the pent-up tension out of their chests at last.

Their prayers were answered, for a minute later, the door swung open, and the orange-banded turtle bounced into the lab carrying a bowl of reheated porridge. And at once, he did not like the atmosphere inside the lab, and it did not help that his two partners were looking at him with worried expressions on their faces while Donatello sat forlornly with his head down.

It did not take a genius to figure out the situation, and with a sigh, Michelangelo closed the gap and joined the group.

“Here’s your porridge, Donnie. It’s delish!” he said energetically, offering the tray to his addressed brother, who silently accepted but made no move to eat. Knowing that Donnie was stubborn when he wanted to be, the others let him do as he wished.

“So…” Leonardo spoke up with a cough, trying to formulate the best way to address the situation inside his head, but unfortunately, no viable idea came. The idea of beating around the bush with small talk was instantly smothered before it could pass the assessment stage. Thus, he decided to come clean right from the start.

“Donnie, there is something we…we’ve been meaning to tell you, but we were…I was afraid to tell you, and now, we have decided that we all want to tell you this face-to-face now,” he paused a bit to study Donnie’s face, gathering his courage and his composure as well before resuming, “The truth is…Raph, Mikey and I are…well…we’re…we’re currently doing the…you know…” Leo tried, but he could not think of a way to state it gently, and thus, he resorted to using his body language to animate the act by forming a circle with two fingers of his right hand and moving his index finger of the other hand toward the space in the middle, a flush prominent on his face as he did so, and if the situation were different, Raph, Mikey and even Donnie would have laughed at how fidgety and funny the normally confident leader was behaving at that moment.

“…Oh for goodness’ sake,” Raphael growled impatiently and rolled his eyes at Leo’s antics. He then walked over to join Leo and Mikey’s side and looked at Donatello straight in the eyes. With a loud and decisive voice, he declared with no hesitation on his part.

 “We’re boyfriends and yes, as Leo’s trying to say, we’re having sex, okay!”

After that, tense silence once again reigned supreme. Nobody said anything. They sat still amidst the deafening stillness and waited for Donatello to say something – anything at all. However, the purple-clad turtle simply darted his brown, mysterious eyes around, jumping from one brother to another in complete and utter silence, and to be met with that tranquil and analytical gaze of the smartest turtle in the lair was a nerve-wrecking experience for the others, especially when nobody knew what the genius’ intention was and how his response to the matter was going to be. The uncomfortable silence continued to stretch on for a while longer until at last, it was shattered when Donatello’s muffed voice spoke up, soft as a breeze and yet crystal-clear within the enclosed space of his laboratory.

“I know…”

Again, nobody said anything in response to that one simple statement – a brief and concise confession from the purple-banded genius and the confirmation that the others sought.

Donatello waited a moment before he continued, looking at his brothers in turn with an unreadable expression set on his face, “Actually, I’ve known that fact for a while now, but I just chose not to say it since I could tell it was not my place to.”

“And…how did you find out exactly?” Leonardo asked, but they all knew it was just a formality to buy some time to formulate his next move, nothing more.

“To be honest, Leo, it was by pure chance that I found out. After the day I told you the results, you three became secretive about something, and I noticed that every time I went inside my lab, you would leave with each other and hang out somewhere in the sewers or in the dojo even after training was over. Normally, you or Raph entering the dojo would not be much of a surprise, but as the days passed, even Mikey began to disappear with you and distance himself from me, and that was when my curiosity peaked.”

“So you decided to what…spy on us?” Raph asked, a bit angry by the thought that his genius brother would do something sneaky and so unlike him like that. To his amazement, however, Donnie shook his head slightly.

“No, my curiosity peaked, but that was where I drew the line. I had long decided that if it was your private business, and as long as you three came back happy and laughing with each other, then I would not question your behavior. Besides, I tried not to pry in favor of other matters that required my immediate attention, like working on the retro-mutagen formula and fixing our vehicles to name a few. That is until one day, I managed to find an old security camera during one of our patrols near the city’s dump. It seemed fixable, so I brought it back with me and intended to install it somewhere in the sewers to further reinforce our lair’s security network – heaven knows we need that after everything that’s happened. And after all, recycling something that can still be salvaged is a much better option than having to make one from scratch.”

“This doesn’t explain how that thing got into the dojo,” Raph cut in, and was immediately silenced by Leo and Mikey.

“So you found out,” Donnie commented as he darted a quick look at his worktable, “That would explain why the papers on my workspace are in disarray like that. Wrestling?”  

“Yes, but it’s trivial matter right now. Please go on, D.” said the orange-banded terrapin. Inhaling and exhaling sharply to gather his thoughts, Donatello did as requested and resumed his narrative.

“…On the day I was about to head out to the sewer to install the camera in a spot I picked, master Splinter stopped me. He still wasn’t at all comfortable with having us wander around alone, without backup, after what had happened, and so he insisted that I carry out a field test inside the lair. I agreed for I saw the truth in his reasoning, I mean, that shrimpy Shredder Stockman created could still be roaming within the sewers now, so who knows what other Foot surprises or mutant problems were lurking around in the shadows. I heeded his words and opted for a safer route and I had his permission to use the dojo for my test. Also, in the dojo, the camera would be able to capture the sounds and the images of our practice session, and I intended to use those elements to check its quality.”

“Then why hid it from us?” Raph interjected once more, a scowl on his face.

“Pardon me, Raph, but have you seen the list about the items I fixed, which instantly went busted when they were placed near you and Mikey? It’s probably longer than two of my Bo staves stacked together,” Donnie replied, a small smile on his face, but in reality, none of them felt humored at that moment. “Anyway, I hid the spy cam amidst the leaves and left it there…It was supposed to be a 24-hour test, and I intended to take it down after patrol later that night. But…in the afternoon…I went to my lab and checked it, and…I saw…you three…on the screen…”

His voice trailed off and ended abruptly afterward, but everyone could see the mismatch between his green skin and the red tinge decorating his cheeks. If they found that adorable, none of them admitted aloud for it was neither the time nor place, except for Michelangelo, who slowly looked away from Donatello, the same discoloration present on his own cheeks. Luckily, he did not get spotted. His blush soon faded, and another thought began to form inside his head, particularly regarding something Donnie had just told him about how he had distanced himself from the genius.

‘ _Gosh_ …’ he sighed mentally and turned his baby blue eyes back to his tallest and closest brother in the lair with a hint of sadness apparent in his orbs _. ‘How did I not know or think about that?’_ he wondered privately, but his hid mind offered no usable excuse for him to turn to, only acknowledgement of the fact.

Another interval of silence descended upon the four, and it was only broken when Leo once again offer a small cough to politely gather everyone’s attention.

“Look, Donnie…” Leonardo started, “We didn’t mean to keep this a secret from you, but…you see, the thing is…uhm…” his moment of hesitation allowed Donnie to jump in again, his voice low with restrained emotions this time.

“I know, Leo, I heard what you guys said every time you finished, so there’s no need to explain yourself to me.”

“Really?” Leo asked, a bit hopeful that Donatello would be able to understand, but what came out of the genius’ mouth were words nobody had really expected.

“Yeah…I’ve heard times and times again how much all of you consider my presence around you to be undesirable, so I deliberately stayed out of your way and locked myself in my lab until the late hours when you had no choice but to tolerate me against your will…” said Donatello in a murmur. Leo, Raph and Mikey, looking pale with shock as if someone had just cruelly splashed a bucket of cold water in their faces, could do little else other than stare at the genius with disbelief clearly portrayed in their body languages – from their widened eyes to their gaping mouths.

…

It took a while before Leonardo could finally manage to partially overcome his spell-like trance and muster up the energy to say something back – to clarify, to erase, to dispel the false idea that had somehow rooted itself inside Donatello’s head - but even then, the leader’s words came out a jumbled mess of gasps and barely audible utterances. The shock that his brother thought he was hated by his own family was immense, and not so easily conquered.  

“W-What? What makes you…what makes you think like that…We…We would never…” Leo shakily muttered, but he did not get far.

Wordlessly, Donatello stood up and made his way toward the controls, not even once stopping to answer the questioning and horrified gazes of the other three stunned turtles. With practiced movements, Donatello then activated the small screen and rewound the security feat back to the previous day, at the exact time when the other turtles’ latest acts of passion reached its end.

And then, Leo, Raph and Mikey heard, with perfect clarity and very much to their horror, the words that came from the speaker.

“…good ‘cause Don ain’t here…” Raph heard his past version say, his voice mixed and slightly slurred by the background noises of static, and he was rendered speechless, horrified by the misunderstanding.

“…Donnie…sucks…” came Mikey’s breathless voice this time, and the present turtle could only stare blankly at the slumped back of Donatello, his eyes wide and mouth hung open widely in shock. Even Leo could not say anything.

“I have more feats like that,” Donnie spoke up all of the sudden, turning around halfway to glance at his three brothers for a brief second before his eyes returned to the small screen before him. “Every single time you did this…you all said how much my presence was unwelcome, one way or another - different wordings, same meaning. And it hurts, you know. It really hurts. Had you said it directly to my face…had you told me directly what I’ve done wrong straight out ‘cause I know I’ve messed up more times than I can count with April and Leo and Timothy and Metalhead and…the list just keeps going…But the point is, if you had told me, it would have hurt…but not as much…not this much…the pain wouldn’t have been as strong as the one I felt when I found out your thoughts and feelings in this manner…I don’t mind the fact that you feel the way you do toward one another and I don’t hold any prejudice against your intimacy with one another…but…but it’s what you said about me afterward that…that…”

Donnie’s voice cracked like glass, and he could not go on any further than that. His posture slumped even more. His body suddenly felt extraordinarily heavy and he found himself being pulled down by the force of gravity. Tiredly, Donnie sat down on the seat nearby, unable to stand on his shaky and trembling feet any longer. The tension in the lab, his own mental admission and his lack of sufficient rest had all taken a great toll on his body, completely sapping away what was left of his strength away, and now, Donatello felt weary and fatigued, and he sat still on his seat, silently waiting for the others to say something – to admit and maybe be honest with him for a change now that they were all gathered inside the privacy of his lab.

And still Donatello sat, trying to even his breathing and steeling himself for what the others would say.

Back on the bed, Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo exchanged silent, shock-filled looks with each other before their faces simultaneously morphed into dread-filled grimaces.

It was a gigantic misunderstanding that they had inadvertently caused Donatello to bear, and it was now on them to figure out a way to rectify the situation and get Donnie’s self-esteem back before his downward spiral deteriorated even further.

And to accomplish that, all three turtles knew there was only way.

“Dude…” Mikey whispered to Raph and Leo, his blue eyes moist with tears threatening to fall any second. “We…we have to…”

“We know, Mikey. We know…” Raph answered and wrapped the younger turtle into a side hug, keeping the latter grounded and his composure in check.

It was time to come clean and fix this situation, and unanimously, they had come to the conclusion that the only way to do so was admitting aloud their true, undistorted thoughts and emotions regarding the purple-banded turtle and praying that their feelings would be, at the very least, acknowledged.

It would take another interval of silence before Leonardo’s mind became lucid enough to allow him to say his piece.

“Donnie,” the leader started, his voice soft and gentle and filled with sadness and sincerity, as he along with the other two slowly and precariously approached the still genius, who had yet to move an inch after his confession. “Please listen to me. You have it wrong, Donnie,” he continued, but the addressed turtle still made no move to turn around on his seat.

“How so?” asked Donatello, his voice conveying disbelief as well as an underlying hint of disappointment the others did not fathom.  

Leonardo took it upon himself and grabbed the backrest of the swirling chair to turn it around. He then tenderly cupped his palms around Donnie’s cheeks and gently lifted the latter’s head up. Soft blue eyes met sad brown eyes, and the former persistently held their contact, trying their very best to convey as much as they could with their serene and sincere gaze, and even in his emotional fatigue, Donatello could still register the powerful wave of emotions that were being expressed from those beautiful and mesmerizing eyes of his oldest brother.

“Donatello,” Leo spoke again, voice just as soft and warm, and the use of his full name made the addressed turtle return the eye contact, his movements a bit hesitant. “You misunderstood. We don’t hate you, Donnie. We could never, and I mean never, hate you…” the blue-banded ninja continued, his voice soft. “We are sorry that we caused you to feel that way, indirectly or not, but you must know that all of us can never hate you. We all love you, Donnie, very much.”

In reply, Donnie forced a humorless chuckle and looked away, “Yeah, it’s kind of hard to believe that when all of you’ve practically drilled those thoughts inside my head, some more than others. Face it, Leo, I failed you – big time – with the whole invasion thing. Raph, ever so clear and honest with his thoughts, always berates my skills, be it ninjutsu or technical…and the thing is, sometimes, he’s right…sometimes, he’s spot-on…” Donatello looked at the red-clad ninja as he said these words, and the latter flinched visibly and remorsefully, his arms falling to his sides as his mind brought back the unfair and hurtful accusation he had unwisely shouted to Don in his moment of anger when Leo had been poisoned. Raphael would have said something, but he never got the chance to, for Donatello went on, this time glancing at Mikey.

“And Mikey…to be honest, I didn’t know what you truly thought about me, but I suppose you must have liked me enough to hang around. That is, until I heard this…Yeah, talk about a big bang to the head.”

The others grew worried, but they knew what they had to do. No longer could they afford to waste another precious second; they needed to put a stop to this and prevent these false thoughts from filling and marinating the genius’ mind any longer.

Leo clamped his hands around Donatello’s shoulders and prompted him to be quiet and look up.

With a sigh, the blue-banded leader started, trying his best to maintain his composure and conviction.

“Donnie, please listen to me. This is all a big misunderstanding, what you heard on your screen, that’s not what we said at all,” he insisted, but Donnie did not reply. “I know you don’t think so, Donnie, but I swear, it’s not – not even a fraction.”

“Yeah, D.,” Mikey interjected hastily, his voice cracking and borderline pleading and begging. Some drops of tears were escaping his restraints, rolling down unchecked along his flushed cheeks. “Your camera is busted, dude…Surely you realize that there is a few seconds missing in between what we said, and ironically, those are the ones that actually matter!”

“That’s right!” Raph growled passionately, the only way he knew how to express himself to others, “Ya jumped the gun and then jumped to the wrong conclusion this time, genius!”

“Raph, quit it,” Leo cut in immediately for he noticed the sharp edge in the sai-user’s tone. Raph growled in his throat, but complied. With another sigh, Leonardo turned his attention back to Donatello once more.

“Donnie, look. I know what you heard on those videos sound bad, but you have to know that what you heard are merely fragments of what we said in reality. I swear that none of us finds your presence unwelcome at all. Had I known this would happen, I would have told you the truth a long time ago.”

Leonardo then looked into Donatello’s eyes once more, and the purple-banded ninja could see nothing but sincerity radiating from those sky-blue orbs and honesty lacing that heartfelt tone. However, he still opted to remain silent and listened to the leader as he continued on.

“Part of the reason why we hid our relationships from you is…Well, for starter, you just always seemed to have something to do in your lab and you had been going through some tough time, so we didn’t want to bother you, and yes, by ‘us’, it also includes Mikey, no matter how shocking that may sound. And secondly, about this whole…you know, sex thing, we didn’t tell you because we were afraid you would…um…”

“Feel disgusted?” Donatello prompted, his voice even, but Leo noticed an accusatory undertone and flinched backward, rubbing his neck sheepishly. With a nod, he silently confirmed it. Donatello sat still and entertained the thought for a while longer before he let out a sigh and shook his head.

“Leo,” Donnie said again, his voice low still, “We are, quite probably, the only ones of our kind and furthermore, we are not even related by blood, so these urges and emotions you all feel toward one another are not without cause. It’s only natural for all living organisms to find partners with whom they can share their lives with.”

“So, you really are…okay with all of this? With us being boyfriends?” Leonardo asked, torn between hopefulness and surprise at Don’s acceptance.

“I’m perfectly fine with your choice, Leo – all of your choices in life,” Donnie replied, and then his eyes became downcast. “And your enthrallment with each other has never been a concern to me. It’s only the last part about me that I’m not okay with. You insist that it’s a misunderstanding, but I…I don’t know. I no longer feel sure or certain about anything anymore after everything that’s happened to us. Lately, I feel like I’ve been messing up everything and failing more and more in literally everything I do. I was powerless to help April when she was poisoned, I couldn’t even cure Karai’s mutation,…I’m sorry, but…” he stopped and sighed again, pinching his forehead with his fingers to chase away the forming headache. “I just don’t know…”       

“…Donnie,” this time, it was Mikey who spoke up and stepped forward. He placed a hand on Donatello’s shoulder to capture his attention. The purple-banded ninja turned to the youngest of the clan, and at once, Michelangelo did not waste any more time.

Mikey was desperate – very and utterly desperate to get Donnie to believe that everyone enjoyed being with him that he had to do whatever he could to convince the latter of that fact.  

“We…We love you, Donnie, as in _love_ love you,” he admitted, and at once, the lab descended into yet another moment of tense, shocked silence, and the other turtles could only look at Mikey with eyes flashing with disbelief, and none of them was able to say anything coherent for a rather long while.

“Pardon?” Donnie blurted out, stunned and his face flushed to the neck as his mind went to overdrive to process that sudden and seemingly out-of-place confession from the youngest of the clan.

“Yeah…” the youngest continued decisively, his eyes never leaving the target. “To be honest, all of us are attracted to you. We have been for a long time now, but you just seemed so…so unattainable with your crush on April and all, and…well, like Leo said, we didn’t want to spook you with our actions. That’s why all of us decided to stay quiet and acted discreetly. We only act on our urges when you’re not around because of that reason and that reason alone. We have never, never hated you, and I’m sorry if we have unintentionally made you feel that way.”

“…Okay,” Raphael said this time with a loud sigh, “No point hiding if the bonehead already let the cat out of the bag now. It’s true what he said, Donnie. We all see you as something more than just a brother, and we have always longed to have you join us…but you see…You seem…all straight and proper, so we thought we had no chance. The rest is, you know, like Leo said. The last thing we need is for one of us to get freaked out at the thought of having to share his home with three sex-crazed mutants.”

“I…I…” Donnie struggled to find the words to say in response to this sudden revelation, but somehow, his vocabulary just disappeared altogether, and nothing but incoherent utterances and sharp pants escaped his lips. His face was flushed in a deep crimson hue, the color stretching down to his neck. Soon, when the heat along with the concerned looks of his brothers became too much to bear, Donatello shot up abruptly from his chair and hastily gasped out, “I…I need to use the restroom for a while…Excuse me…”

And with whatever stamina he could muster, Donatello speedily ran toward the exit and straight out of his lab, ignoring the collective pleading cries of his name coming from the other three turtles behind.   


	11. Answer

Left Out

Chapter 11: Answer

The entire laboratory suddenly became extraordinarily suffocating – too suffocating and too tense for his liking. Thus, as quickly as his legs could carry him at that moment, Donatello shot up from the seat in front of the screens and scurried away from his brothers. He had the sudden urge to get out there before his thoughts became too overwhelming. There was just so much to take in, so much to process within such a short amount of time, so Donatello needed some time and more importantly, some personal space to himself to think things through, his mind reasoned and his body followed accordingly. Making a mad dash toward the door and never once stopping to even turn a brief glance back, Donatello deliberately ignored the collective strangled cries of his name coming from the other three terrapins behind him. His mind urged him to just run, and everything else became secondary to that one single command.

Once his hand was upon the knob, the purple-banded turtle swiftly slid the door open and disappeared and just as quickly, he made his way toward the restroom. The others behind, utterly stunned as they stood still, could do little else than watch helplessly at the sight of the genius’ hasty retreat.

It took a while longer for Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo to thoroughly process the series of events that had just transpired right before them, and Raphael was the first to recover from the initial shock. A furious frown then formed on his face when his control over his own body returned, and an angry, rumbling growl escaped his throat unbidden. His acidic green eyes shone brightly against the dim and dark laboratory as they darted around and settled on another turtle near him.

“What the heck was that, Mikey?” said Raph in exasperation, his fingers curled tightly, digging into the palm of his hands and trembling with barely restrained emotions. Mikey, at once snapped out of his shock by the sudden and irate cry of his name, jolted and turned to regard his addresser, his face displaying apparent confusion.

“What?” asked the orange-banded turtle quietly, his eyes wide and his entire posture slumped.

“Why the heck didja have to blurt out that we love Don when he was clearly confused and distressed about the whole misunderstanding?” Raph retorted, both hands flailing wildly and lividly in all directions to animate his growing frustration. “You spooked him! And worse still, I helped ya! Now he’s gone into hiding!”

“I…I didn’t think…” Mikey sheepishly stuttered and fiddled with his fingers, avoiding his fiery brother’s eyes. His social skills seemed to have been swallowed whole by his own suffering and self-directed blaming, and as overwhelmed as he currently was, Mikey could not muster enough control to even keep his speech straight. “I just…I thought…he just looked so distressed and betrayed that I just had to…had to…” at this point, Mikey’s voice became high-pitched and incoherent, his jumbled utterances lost between a series of gasps and hiccups. Fresh tears threatened to grow soon.

“Shh, Mikey, hush,” Leonardo was quick to interject at that point, doing so gently and tenderly, running his hand up and down the troubled Mikey’s shell in soothing motions. His actions worked to a certain degree, and seconds later, the youngest turtle seemed to react positively and calm down somewhat, and his hiccupping subsided soon after.

“It’s okay, Mikey,” Leo assured again, gently still, with a small smile on his face as he lifted the youngest ninja’s head up. The leader peered deep into his youngest clan member’s wide, moist blue eyes as he spoke, “Everything that happened wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t mean that,” replied Mikey meekly, turning his gaze away. It was a simple statement of fact, and as much as Leo would love to deny it, he could not fully do so. And thus, with a sigh, the blue-clad leader shook his head and spoke up, his voice calm and gentle still.

“Well…not entirely your fault. What you did there was well-meaning, but honestly, a bit poor on the timing and execution…” he resumed, and he saw Mikey’s shoulders tense immediately upon hearing that. “But! You’re not the only one to bear the blame in this, for this entire mess is _our_ fault. We really should have just told him outright from the start instead of hiding and indirectly causing this whole mess...like we did master Splinter…”

“Well excuse me for asking,” Raph scoffed, “But last I checked, it ain’t out fault the boy genius got his hands on a crappy camera that can’t even record the complete audio!” Raph growled again, crossing his arms over his chest and fuming at the thought.

“I know, Raph,” Leo placated his hotheaded brother, “It wasn’t. It was a series of coincidences, one coincidence led to another until this whole mess was created. It wasn’t intentional, but our decision to keep everything behind his back definitely played a role in this. We had no idea, but now, it’s not about crying over what _could have been_ _done_.”

“But…What can we do?” Mikey asked, voice cracking.

“Now…” Leo paused and looked at the door sadly before he shook his head, “I hate to say it, but we can only wait. Donnie’s confused, and any more attempts at convincing on our part will just make him all the more so.”

“So, we’re practically doing nothing!” Raph exclaimed. “We tried that already, and look where we are.”  

“We are not doing _nothing_ , Raph,” Leo sternly corrected, but he still maintained his composure and avoided getting himself riled up by the red-banded turtle’s temper. “We’re giving him some time alone, some space to himself to calm down first. Once he is ready, we’ll talk again.”

Everyone grew silent and followed Leo’s gaze toward the exit, and at once, Raph’s glare seemed to soften visibly. Neither Mikey nor Raph said anything to challenge Leo’s plan.

“I still hate this,” said the youngest ninja softly as he, too, settled down on his seat as well.

“So do we, Mike,” Raph spoke softly. “So do we…”

Silence reigned again inside the laboratory.

…

The moment Donnie was safely behind the door leading into the restroom, he swiftly slammed it shut and locked it. Only then did the confused turtle finally allow himself to exhale the breath he himself did not even know he had been holding.

Leaning his shell against the door and slowly allowing gravity to pull his form down, Donnie unceremoniously flopped down on the floor and wrapped his hands around his drawn up knees. Though his body was stationary, his mind continued to race as an influx of contradicting words continued to echo hauntingly and loudly inside his head.

Donnie’s face scrunched up, and he pressed both hands tightly against the sides of his head in a futile attempt to block the voices out, all the while muttering something to himself and repeating it times and times again as if it was his mantra to ward off the evil that was presently out to get him.

“Quiet…Quiet…Quiet…” he would repeat that word again and again, willing his mind to go blank. To his dismay, however, his greatest asset turned against him. The voices of his brothers and father continued to ring inside his mind – both from the recorded camera and the ones he had heard back inside the lab. As time passed, more and more conversations that had long passed resurfaced – all the mean things that he had been subjected to, all the remarks that had been less than nice directed at him, all the comments spoken in attempts to embarrass him...Everything came back all at once, resulting in a massive headache for the poor, shivering genius.

“Stop it!” he shouted loudly once everything became unbearable and at the same time, his shaky grip on his head instinctively got harder and harder, his face contorted as if he was in extreme agony.

His outburst produced the desirable effect, to his relief, for the moment he let his pent-up frustration out, the inner voices stopped arguing in an abrupt yet welcoming manner. And for a brief second, Donatello relished the momentary silence and peace, and he finally relaxed his body and leaned his head against the door, heavy breaths escaping his parted lips.

“I’m a mess…” he muttered and closed his eyes for a second and felt his mind go blank.

Unfortunately, his fleeting moment of repose was not meant to last, and his thoughts were soon invaded once again, this time only by what his brothers had just told him inside the laboratory – Leonardo’s words of reassurances, Mikey and Raph’s exclamations of sudden confessions. Everything, every single syllable and utterance spoken to him inside that lab continued to play over and over again in his mind like a broken record until yet another headache occurred, to his displeasure. Fortunately, it was much milder compared to the previous, agonizing predecessor.

Donnie sat still and pressed his head against his knees for, waiting for this latest ailment to go away on its own.

“…Could it be true…” he muttered at last and once he was sure he would not double over, he slowly got up to his feet. Donatello made his way over to the sink and stared intently at his own reflection in the mirror, his eyes looking at the turtle that was currently staring back at him on the other side, a prominent blush on his face.

“Mikey and the others…They all…love me? Romantically?” Donnie asked his own reflection again, acting as if by doing so, the other turtle would provide him with the answer he sought.

Letting out another sigh, Donatello undid his mask and placed it aside. He turned on the tap and promptly splashed some cool water onto his face, enjoying the coolness of the liquid as it came into contact with his hot, sweaty skin, and that coolness served to soothe his nerves a little more.

He was back to staring at the mirror again, his face set in a musing expression, and his entire body still.

Donnie took his time to calm himself down from the latest chain of events he had gone through and, at the same time, gather his thoughts. The genius’ gaze was then diverted away from his reflection and cast downward, his eyes staring absorbedly at the water running from the open tap, watching in silence as the clear liquid swirled around the flange, becoming slightly tainted as it swept away some of the stubborn specks of dirt hanging onto the old rim, before it finally went down the hole.

Switching off the tab soon afterward, Donatello suddenly smiled - a small yet genuine smile gracing his lips. He looked up to face his reflection again. This time, the image of the turtle before him was starkly different from earlier. His reddish brown eyes no longer held the dullness that had once haunted them, and instead, they shone brightly with renewed energy and conviction.

Donatello looked for a while longer before the slight curve at the corner of his lips stretched, twitching upward a bit further, enough to reveal his teeth and part of his trademark gap. A soft snicker escaped Donnie’s mouth moments later, and he shook his head.

“Huh…It’s really like sensei said…Me and my big brain in my own little world, and absolutely no clue about what’s really going on around me…” Donnie muttered and paused briefly in his speech to allow yet another self-deriding chuckle to escape his lips before he resumed, “Just like sensei said, indeed…Oh, Donatello, Donatello, Donatello…How blind you’ve been…A genius inventor fooled by that which you take pride in. Hah…Comedy gold indeed! Ha ha ha…”

Another moment of silence transcended upon the lone turtle, and when it was over, Donatello rose up to full height. With resolute and decisive movements, he swung his signature purple mask around his eyes and put it back on its rightful place.

“Alright Donatello,” he said heartily to his reflection, a grin decorating his facial features. “Time to do what you do best - fixing things.”

His fingers then located and wrapped themselves around the door knob. Promptly twisting it, Donatello walked out of his hiding place, his posture tall and resolute, and his strides long and confident as he walked toward his own laboratory, physically and mentally ready for another talk with his brothers.

After all, Donatello himself also had a confession to make in response to his brothers’ earlier ones, and he could not think of a better time than _now_.

…

The sudden sound of the door sliding alerted the three soundless turtles inside the darkened lab, and at once, their eyes immediately darted toward the opened entrance. All three sets of eyes were subsequently widened with a mixture of feelings and emotions shown in them – ranging from pure shock to absolute thrill – when they spotted the familiar sight of Donatello walking in.

It literally took Michelangelo all of his self-control to stay seated where he was and avoid lunging himself forward and pulling the genius brother into a tight hug, fearing that doing so would once again make Donatello spooked and run away again. He could not take that chance. So instead, he along with Raph and Leo elected to remain where they were, silently studying their purple-clad brother as he approached.

“Donnie…” Leo began when Donatello halted, but the latter simply raised his hand up, wordlessly requesting that the blue-banded ninja stay quiet - a request which the former heeded.

“Leo, Raph, Mikey, you’ve all said your piece, now it’s my turn to say mine,” the purple-banded brother began, his voice clear and holding his normal tone instead of the meek, subdued one that he had previously employed. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Donnie then looked from one brother to another. When he was certain that everyone was paying attention, he at last commenced his speech.

“First of all, I want to say I’m sorry, and no, do not even try to interject me, Mikey,” he swiftly looked at Michelangelo as he spoke, and the addressed reluctantly sat down again, obediently placing his hands on his laps and keeping his lips a thin line. “…I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions about the camera incident. I have to admit, it was stupid of me to allow myself to be fooled by a broken piece of patched-up machinery. Now that I’ve had some time to think about it, I really should have trusted you more. I should have known that you would never think ill of me in such a manner. We are family. Yes, we are sometimes frustrated with one another, sometimes we get annoyed with one another, sometimes, we fight with each other, sometimes we hurt each other either intentionally or unintentionally, but all the time, all we have in this world is each other – you, me, sensei and a handful of friends that we were fortunate enough to have met - and I should have realized that sooner – that you would never hate me, despite the fair share of screw-ups I have made. That was a hasty mistake on my part, and for that, I’m sorry.”

Donnie paused a bit to check if his brothers’ attention was still on him or not. Once he was pleased that they were still listening with undivided attention, he cleared his throat and continued.

“That being said, trust is a two-way street. There is give, and there is take, and in this case, it’s clear that none of us fulfilled our ends. I didn’t trust you enough and was fooled by my own machine…”

“…And we didn’t trust you enough to tell you our secrets,” Leonardo admitted, agreeing, “We let our fear of rejection control us.”

“Yes, that you did,” Donatello nodded his head in consensus, but this time, a smile was apparent on his face as he looked at his brothers, “And that makes us even. Now that we have established the core of the problem, we can begin to fix it, which happens to be my line of specialty in this family,” he finished smugly and jabbed one finger toward himself, acting like he was really ‘all that.’

“Okay…” Raph said, both amused and happy that Donnie was back to his normal self with his mannerisms and antics. “So, professor, how are ya gonna do that?” he asked in jest, and in return, the genius shot him a toothy grin. Donatello then wordlessly beckoned everyone to come over to his position.

Raph, Leo and Mikey looked at each other briefly before they did as requested, standing in front of the purple-banded ninja.

“Now what?” Leo asked, curious, and his intrigue peaked when Donatello shot him a wide grin that made his heart beat faster. He could feel a sudden rush of heat on his face, but he could not be absolutely certain of that happening.

“Now…” replied Donnie as he leaned closer toward Leo, much to the others’ surprise. “We get started.”

Before anyone could say anything, Donatello closed the remaining gap between himself and his blue-banded leader, and instantly, their lips met in a soft and quick kiss, but despite the briefness of the act, once it was over, everyone could see that Leo’s face was uncharacteristically red. And his blush seemd to spread all the way to his neck, making Donatello snicker a bit as he watched his speechless leader try and fail to produce anything understandable. Next to Leo, Mikey and Raph were the same, as they both could not quiet believe what had just happened.

Donatello – the Donatello who had always crushed after April – had kissed Leonardo. It was an outcome they had all fantasized, but unanimously thought impossible until it was made reality just now.

“Wha…” Mikey started, but no more words were uttered as his lips, too, were sealed in the same kiss that Leo had been given. It was tender and brief, feathery at best, completely lacking the fiery passion of the ones that Raph had given him or the dominating sensuality of Leo’s, and yet, it was satisfying in its own way, in its gentleness and affection it conveyed. When it was over and Donatello drew back, Mikey’s face was now colored in the same tinge as Leo’s, and the normally chatty turtle was reduced to a stunned, gaping fool, his mind seemingly shutting down from overload and consequently making him unable to form any coherent sounds. The dazedness of the sweet contact continued to haunt his thoughts and impair his rationality, much to Raphael’s humor.

“Huh,” Raphael chuckled loudly, amazed and amused by the dumbfounded expressions decorating his two partners. He even took his sweet time committing those rarely seen expressions to memory for later teasing before he turned around to greet Donnie. His smug grin grew all the wider as he saw the same smile plastered on the genius’ face, and with his gruff voice, Raph shook his head and spoke up.

“So, looks like we ain’t the only ones keeping our cards face-down, huh, Donnie-boy. Who would have guessed…”

“Hmm, then how about we put everything on the table, tough guy? Here and now,” Donnie replied and leaned closer to Raphael’s face.

“Aye, I think I can live with that,” a soft chuckle was then heard coming from the red-banded ninja before it was silenced by the soft lips of the purple-banded ninja upon his own, effectively taking his breath away.

When all three had had their turns, Donatello took a step back to better study them with his analytical gaze. Leo and Mikey seemed to be frozen in time, as they had yet to make any move. On the other hand, only Raph seemed to be able to function normally, but upon closer inspection, a light blush coloring his beak could still be spotted, despite his best efforts to conceal it.

Clearing his throat again, the genius opened his hands and with a loud, clear voice, he spoke up for all to hear.

“And that’s my answer,” he said, and as expected, after a brief moment of stunned stillness, Donatello suddenly found himself with a handful of gleeful mutant turtles, all of whom simultaneously tackling him to the ground and showering him with frantic cuddles and hugs.

“We love you, too, Donnie!” said the other three, and their words were spoken with nothing but sincerity and affection, making the genius’s smile grow and grow, and his heart swell in happiness as well.

At last, the shadow of doubt cast by the unfortunate misunderstanding was lifted, and so were the secrets that separated the four from becoming closer.

Their boisterous laughter of the four turtles continued to ring inside the laboratory, who were all oblivious to the slight crack at the entrance. And as a result, they also failed to sense the retreating form of a tall figure on the other side, who swift and stealthily made his retreat toward the dojo with a proud and content smile on his face.

“And thus, the storm has alas come to pass, and all lives begin anew.”

…

End of Arc 1.


	12. Precursor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second arc of the story - Dancing Shadows - officially begins now. As the turtles' relationships take a turn for the better, everything else outside the lair begins to slowly yet steadily spiral out of control as Stockman's desires gave birth to new and mysterious evils.

Left Out

Arc 2: Dancing Shadows

Chapter 12: Precursor

Baxter Stockman let out a long, hysterical string of laughter inside his personal laboratory and with each breath that escaped his mouth, his body would convulse accordingly, rising and deflating in a set rhythm, his voice echoed resoundingly as it bounced on and off the various walls around him, further amplifying the high-pitched, pitiful attempt at an evil-scientist impersonation of the hybrid mutant. However, he could not quite contain his excitement, for after months of waiting and waiting, months of being forced into savage slavery against his will by the Shredder and his soldiers, he could at last regain that which had been so brutally stolen from him – his human form. That thought alone warranted celebration.

“At long last!” Stockman shouted triumphantly as he looked at the screen, upon which almost full bar with the number 98% was displayed. “At long last! My humanity shall be returned to me. No longer will I have to suffer this hideous form, no longer will I be forced to conceal myself in the darkness of the night, I will walk among men once more, and the world will once again get a taste of the great Baxter Stockman!”

As soon as his gleeful rant hit its high-pitched, ear-numbing screeching finale, a small ring could be heard coming from the computer, much to Stockman’s delight. Unable to contain his rising eagerness any longer, he flew over and opened up another window on his machine to study the results of his long and meticulous analysis of Donatello’s self-made retro-mutagen formula. Four hours. Four long, dreadful hours had passed since his dealing with the turtles, and during that time, he had devoted his attention fully and solely on this one single task. Shredder’s orders be damned. He wanted this, craved this, and now, the compositions of the cure were his. The battle was half-won.

“Yes…Yes!” he exclaimed, his hands and head trembling with exhilaration and thrills and anticipation. If he still had his mouth, it would curve upward and be stretched to the max, defied its humanly limits and reached the scientist’s eyes. Stockman’s eyes swiftly skimmed through the report, and his mirth bloomed. Almost everything present in the formula was either readily available inside his laboratory or could be obtained through some secret backdoor dealings with Shredder’s criminal associates. Even though working for the murderous head of the Foot clan was far from what he would consider an ideal environment for his genius to be nurtured and improved, he could not bring himself to fully deny the side benefits that so helpfully came with his current position, among which was the availability of a very extended rolodex which he could employ at any time he so desired, and those he called upon would not even dare to ask a single question out of line – it made Stockman feel rather good to be in control for once, telling others what to do and having a huge portion of the underworld markets as his private plaything without anyone’s knowledge. A few well-placed threats and suave manipulation on his part, and nobody would open their lips and tattle up his secret conducts to the Shredder.

“This is better than I expected!” he cried joyously once more as he reached the last items on the screen. Unfortunately, his mirth was not meant to be whole, and it was shattered when his fly eyes landed on the last and most crucial component to produce the formula. That made him curse, a string of colorful curses aimed at nothing in particular and then at everything his mind could think of, but mostly, at his downright rotten fate.

“DNA!”Baxter yelled out with a touch of anger lacing his voice, and that anger was then animated outwardly by the act of slamming his mutated hands on the keyboard. He reread the highlighted line over and over again until he was certain that his tired eyes were not playing tricks on him. With a feral growl that was more animal than human, the mutant sat down on his seat and allowed his wings to rest, head directed skyward toward the ceiling, his eyes unfocused as his mind was overridden with bitter thoughts regarding his disgusting luck.

Stockman remained stationary for a couple more seconds to allow his mind its much-needed break from the long hours of working. Once he was calm enough, Baxter redirected his gaze toward the flickering screen before him.  

“DNA…April O’Neil’s DNA!” he muttered this time, unable to fully hide the bitterness in his tone. “Of all the rotten…I have to deal with that girl, the one that actually gave someone like Karai a run for her money! And to top it off, she’s buddy-buddy with those pesky, ruinous, meddling green freaks in half shells!” His voice then lowered and his body slumped visibly, resigned, “I seriously need to rethink my life…Why do I always have the worst hand dealt to me all the times?”

So lost in his monologue and wallowing in self-pity, Baxter was consequently lost to his surroundings. He thus failed to notice the two silhouettes silently approaching him from behind. Baxter let out a squeaky scream of fright and immediately took the air on reflex the very moment a rough hand was placed on his shoulder, forcibly snapping him out of his pitiful reverie.

“What’s cha doing there, doc stinky?” asked a voice that was soon accompanied by a grunt and snort, something Stockman was familiar with. But still, the voice of his accomplice did little to soothe his wildly beating heart and racing brain. It took a while longer until Baxter deemed himself calm enough to roost once more, and this time, he faced Zeck and Steranko. Mentally, the fly mutant cursed, again, his inability to express his frustration through his face as he regarded the others.

“Ever heard of knocking?” he snarled, his entire body going stiff and rigid in a defensive fashion. Zeck, however, was less than impressed with the scientist’s tone, and he replied with a snort and crossed his arms in a challenging manner.

“How the hell can I knock when the doors to this madhouse practically open by themselves?” he retorted.

“Well…You could have said something instead of giving me a scare,” Stockman shot back, jabbing his larger hand at the lanky board hybrid accusatorily.  

“Vell,” said Steranko this time in his thick Russian accent of his, “That vas quite a…jump-scare, no?” he said, and instantly, both he and Zeck burst out laughing, humored at the expense of Stockman.

“Fine, laugh! Laugh all you want! But if you still retain some shred of human intelligence inside those thick heads of yours, you’ll know it’s not a good idea to antagonize the only one who can revert you back to your human selves!” Stockman threatened, and at once, the others silenced their laughter.

“Do excuse us, doctor,” said Steranko once more after he was sober.

“Good.”

“But do ya have the formula ready already?” Zeck asked impatiently as he crouched down to study the displays on Stockman’s computer. His attempt was cut short when Stockman inserted himself between the board and his delicate piece of machinery.

“The components, yes, the actual cure, no,” said Stockman, flat and plain. “And before you riot, listen. Most of the ingredients to concoct the retro-mutagen can easily be obtained, but the most important one is…a bit more problematic due to its origin.”

“Vhat is it?” asked Steranko as he approached Stockman, his face set in a frown of impatience and seriousness.

“DNA from a girl called April O’Neil.”

“Pshh! It’s just one sissy little princess,” Zeck scoffed and waved dismissively, “With my suit, I can easily grab her…”

“She’s a friend of the turtles,” Stockman cut in rudely, and at once, the effect was visible and impactful. Just the mere mention of the turtles was more than enough for the other humans to grow silent and at the same time, menacingly serious. Steranko stood still, but his fisted hands were trembling, and his eyes spoke volumes of desires for vengeance upon those who had wronged and robbed him of his humanity and prestige, his job and his everything and reduced him to a mere henchman of another criminal. Next to him, Zeck was strangely quiet as well. Though his eyes were hidden behind his visor, his rigid posture clearly showed his gravity.

“I assume you know just as well as I how much trouble those turtles can be,” Stockman added, his voice filling the interval of tense silence. “We touch that girl, they’ll show up and stand in our way again. And I want to avoid fighting them directly if possible for the sake my future intentions.”

“Hmm, this is most problematic indeed,” said Steranko musingly, scratching his chin in a thoughtful manner as he looked at his feet, trying to come up with a way to acquire the last item for the cure. “Last time, ve deployed ze Shredder’s men without his approval, so zis time, he may not be so lenient. After all, Bradford has made it clear zat he’s on to us now.”

“Basically, we ain’t got a plausible way to scurry out of directly fighting those shell freaks,” added Zeck in agreement. “And if we allow this to go on for too long, Shredder or his goons may catch wind of our plans and steal the retro-mutagen for themselves. Oh man, ain’t this sick! This close to the retro-mutagen and still gotta get bumped at the last minute. Ain’t that a kick on the head.”

Stockman stopped talking and hummed. Suddenly, he looked up again and went straight for his computer. He quickly minimized the screen and opened up another. Furiously pressing the buttons like he was possessed by a force unknown to the naked eyes, Stockman pulled up another screen on board – a video surveillance. 

“I wasssss hoping to save this for later, but like you said, Zeck, time is of the essence. And I’m going to stop at nothing to get my humanity back!” Stockman declared with a burning conviction and passion as he continued to relentlessly push the buttons before him with amazing speed and accuracy.

“Vhat is it?” asked Steranko, curious, as he peered into the screen.

“The spoilsssss of war.”   

A new screen appeared, shining ominously against the dark and gloomy lighting of the lab. On it, four statis pods were shown, stacked in a secret location known only by Stockman, and within them, four humanoid silhouettes could be seen suspended inside. In front of them lied the broken halves of Donatello’s Bo staff, Michelangelo’s destroyed nunchuck, Leonardo’s snapped katana and lastly, Raphael’s twin sais. With a final pull of a lever, Stockman let out yet another maniacal cackle while his conspirators could only behold with unconcealed shock decorating their faces as their eyes laid upon the sights of the mad doctor’s latest creations.

“Vhat are they?” asked the rhino mutant, taking a step backward unconsciously, and next to him, Zeck did the same. They continued to watch with no small amount of apprehension as the four silhouettes stepped out of their confines and into the light. They then directed their attention at the single camera in the secret room, waiting for their orders.

“Like I said, the spoilssss of war!” replied the mad scientist briefly to his accomplices before he spoke into a microphone nearby address his creations, “Come up here, my creations, your master requires your presencessss!”

And within the short span when one would spend blinking an eye, all four scientifically created creatures disappeared with speed unfathomable and silence that could only be achieved by the greatest of assassins, and the moment they did, the four weapons placed within their reach were also gone from their display flatforms.             

…

Back under the sewers, the four turtles were still huddled inside the safety of Donatello’s laboratory. With master Splinter declaring that training be postponed for the day in light of the most recent events, the four teenage ninja had decided to spend their free time together.

And thus, after Donatello’s sweet confession, Leo had decided that some moment of bonding was in order, much to the delight of Michelangelo and Raphael. Don, on the other hand, looked torn by a conflicting mix of both anticipation and trepidation. Having his fantasy realized had always been one of his most well-guarded desires, and now that that fantasy had become reality, Don could not help but feel nervous about what was to come, despite having watched the others in action before.

Leonardo, being perceptive as ever, was quick on the uptake, and with once single glance, he was able to discern Donatello faster than the rest could. The blue-banded leader immediately noticed the subtle yet tell-tale signs of the genius’ growing anxiety – a small twitch of his fingers or a strained smile plastered on one corner of his lips. With a small smile, Leonardo gently approached the genius, and tenderly placed one hand on the latter’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

“It’s okay Don,” Leo began, and Don’s eyes were upon him at once, wide red orbs staring straight into their azure counterparts and silently searching for reassurance and security. “We’ll start slow, okay. You don’t have to force yourself to do things that you’re not used to. We’ll understand, right, guys?” Leo turned to look at Raph and Mikey, who nodded in agreement.

“Yeah,” Raph shrugged, “It took knucklehead here almost a week until he was ready for the rough part.”

“Hey!” Mikey whipped his head around to look at a laughing Raphael, his eyes narrowed in mock exasperation. “It was scary okay! I didn’t know how it would feel like to have my butt rammed into, so I needed time to prepare myself.”

“In any case,” Leo swiftly cut in and directed the conversation back to the main topic at hand, and his hand never once left Donnie’s shoulder. “We’ll start with something small first, and if you’re uncomfortable, we’ll stop, okay, Donnie?”

“…Sure…” replied the sheepish purple-wearing turtle, his fingers twirling around one another in a self-conscious fashion. The thrill and anxiety of his first time was scary, that much was understandable, but I the face of Leonardo’s reassurance, some of that nervousness was quelled.

“Okay, Donnie, bed or floor?” Leonardo asked.

“Floor,” Donnie replied quietly after a small pause. “The bed won’t hold our weights, and I would hate to spend a night in the dump searching for a replacement.”

The other three nodded. Both Leo and Raph then held out their hands and gently guided the most inexperienced terrapin forward to a clear spot on the floor, far away from any workstations of lying projects that could potentially disrupt their session.

“Okay, Donnie,” Raphael said this time, his voice low and husky, and as that voice reached him, Donatello could feel a tingling sensation coursing through his entire body like a current of electricity, slightly electrifying his muscles. Seemingly oblivious to the effect he had done on the addressed, Raph continued.

“Follow our instructions. We’ll try our best to be gentle, but at any time you want us to stop, just say so, okay. There’s no rush, no pressure and no coercion here.”

“Yeah, D.,” Mikey chimed in, “Just chill and let the pro bros here handle everything. And you may want to take off the gears and Bo. Wouldn’t want them to get dirty or someone to get hurt,” he added, face beaming.

As soon as those words slipped out, Mikey swiftly reached his hands for Donatello’s gears. “May I?” he asked, and Don stood still, his face painted in a delicious tinge of rosy red.

“It’s fine…” Donnie stammered, the blush on his cheeks growing until it alas dominated his entire head and shoulders, “I can…I can do this myself…Thanks…”

Donnie then began to take off his gears, but his nimble fingers suddenly felt extraordinarily awkward and clumsy as they fiddled with the pads and belt. With trembling movements, Donnie struggled a little as he continued to slowly and silently strip himself of his articles and placed them somewhere safe. Unbeknownst to the genius, however, his dawdling and gauche movements caused the other three to become more excited.

“For someone without experience, he sure knows how to perform one hell of a strip-tease,” Raph whispered with Leo, and the latter, face probably rivaling Donnie’s own in terms of redness at the moment, could only nod robotically and cough into his fist. Nearby, Mikey simply stood still, unmoving, as his wide eyes were fixed on the lean and well-defined frame of the now naked turtle before them. Even without turning around, Donatello could feel his brothers’ eyes gawking him, running up and down and all over his body.

 _‘Gosh, this is too embarrassing,_ ’ he cried mentally, and felt even more heat rushing to his cheeks and, to his dismay, his nether region as well. He was getting aroused, and worse still, it had not even begun yet, his mind unhelpfully chastised.

After taking a moment to take a huge intake of breath in an attempt to soothe his increasing nerves aganin, Donatello then turned around to face the others, his eyes were cast downward, his hands were covering the private area between his legs self-consciously, his shoulders were trembling slightly and his entire posture was tense and rigid. 

The absolutely fantastical sight of the naked genius, shy and meek in his posture yet willing in his consent, made Leo, Raph and Mikey stunned for a brief moment. For that single moment, it was like all three had lost their ability to form coherently thoughts in their minds, and even the most basic of actions – breathing – was temporarily forgotten, overridden by awe and smothered by their realized desires. Unfortunately, their silence only served to surge Donnie’s nerves once more, and he unknowingly let out a small gasp, an act involuntary in nature, and yet, that one simple sound was more than enough to break the others out of their awe-inspired stupor they had been subjected to. Rationality was once again theirs to command, and at once, Leo, Raph and Mikey, too, began to undo their gears, making sure that the weapons were to be placed as far away as possible to avoid unnecessary injuries during their session.

“Ready, Donnie?” Leonardo asked again, his voice soft and tender still, as he and the other two approached the bashful terrapin.     

Donnie nodded one final time before he settled down on the clear spot they had chosen. As to be expected, the genius was clueless as what to do first, and he could only sit still and cross his legs together.

“Hey Don, ease up a little, will ya?” Raph whispered as he kneeled down before his brother and placed his hand on Donnie’s knee. Hesitantly, reluctantly and timidly, the naked genius then complied after a brief moment of inaction, and willingly, his legs parted and were then stretched out, revealing himself in his entirety to his fellow clan members, much to his utter embarrassment.

In the eyes of the others, however, it was the complete opposite.

As long last, Donatello was one of them, and all three could not help but feel their lust surging exponentially and spreading its bewitching influence throughout their beings, and such influence was dangerously powerful, almost to the point where their minds were overwhelmed by their more primal urges.  Thankfully, they were able to, with much efforts on their part, triumph over their desires as their inner voices so helpfully reminded them of their promise to be gentle.

Raphael and Leonardo settled down before Donnie, and together, they began to run their hands along the length of Donnie’s legs, moving slowly toward the still genius’ thighs. Donnie could feel goosebumps forming where their touch lingered, and he moaned against his will, craving and enjoying the warmth of the actions.

Raph’s other hand grabbed Donnie’s own and guided it toward him. With a quick look to ascertain that Donnie would still allow him to continue, Raph then placed the genius’ fingers before him and gave the digits a lick. As soon as his fingers were grazed by Raph’s treatment, Don shivered as another current of electricity swept through him, but he dared not retract his limb and allowed his brother to continue with what he was doing. Raph continued to plant kiss along the length of Donnie’s arm until he reached the sweet, sensitive crook of the left side of the genius’ neck. Blowing against the delectable skin there for a bit and enjoying the beautiful symphonic moans coming from Donnie for a while, Raph then closed in and toyed with that spot, causing Donnie’s breath to hitch and his head to unconsciously tilt to the other side to allow Raph more access.

At the same time Raph was applying his treatment, Leonardo, too, had his own plan devised in mind as well. Still rubbing one hand against Donnie’s trembling thigh, the leader then leaned forward a bit and placed a soft kiss on the genius’ plastron. The subdued and pleasured sound that reached his ears at the moment of contact was all so sweet and almost divine, ringing in his head loudly and clearly like bells. Encouraged by the sound of his genius’ apparent pleasure, Leo began to employ his tongue as well, moving his mouth up and down Donnie’s abdominal region while patiently avoiding the genius’ anal along with the less-than-subtle twitching inside the slit on purpose, saving that for later.

With two older brothers stimulating him, Donatello’s mind was lost to the numerous sensations felt all around his body. The rough hands sensually and tantalizingly tracing along his thighs, Raph’s constant alternations between kisses and sucking on his neck and Leo’s skillful tongue travelling up and down his plastron…the feelings all combined and aroused him considerably. His moans came out louder and louder, the succeeding ones more needy and desperate than their predecessors. All initial thoughts of shame and embarrassment were forgotten, replaced only by pleasure.

“Ahh…” Donnie’s breath hitched again as he felt Raph sank his teeth into his sensitive and heated flesh. The sudden move was more surprising than it was painful, and true to his words, Raphael was tender with his treatment. “R-Raph…” he moaned, and a rumbling churr was subsequently heard in response.          

Michelangelo, unable to stand still and watch any longer, wordlessly went behind Donatello and placed both of his hands on the taller turtle’s shoulders, squeezing them lightly and easing away some of the stiffness in them. To his merit, another moaning noise was heard from the genius, further encouraging the act.

“You like it D.?” the youngest asked softly, his mouth pressed against the side of Donnie’s head, and the gap was barely noticeable. A series of hot breaths tickled Donnie’s flesh, and once again produced another bout of involuntary shivers from the genius.

“How about this?” said Mikey as his tongue swiftly flicked across Donnie’s cheek. Another moan served as his reply. Without another word, Mikey leaned in, bridging what was left of the distance between them and planted a kiss on Donnie’s cheek.

And oh, this one was different, worldly different than the one he had given the genius when the latter had created the smoke bombs for the first time. Whilst the previous one had been short and brotherly, this one was longer and it conveyed not the platonic affection shared among brothers, but one held by a mate toward another. Calloused fingers around his chin kept Donnie’s head stationary as Mikey switched from kissing to something else.

With his tongue, the youngest then pleasured his older brother, running the wet appendage up and down the other’s cheek and eliciting muffed moans from the blushing genius. Now, the sensations seemed to multiply tenfold, and Donnie’s mind was overwhelmed by the strange yet utterly delightful feelings his body was experiencing. Suddenly, Donatello found his head guided by Mikey’s hand and was turned to the left side, causing him to come face-to-face with the youngest.

Donnie and Mikey shared a moment of silence to behold the inner beauty behind each other’s eyes before the latter carefully leaned forward, causing their lips to touch. The texture and softness of Donnie’s lips were even clearer and more amazing than before now that Mikey could take his time to savor it, to relish and to enjoy it as if it was a hidden delicacy whose taste he had just discovered. Mikey’s kiss was not like the one he so usually shared with either Raph or Leo. Lacking was the fierce passion of the act, absent was the force behind the movements and void was the needy desperation the three had so frequently displayed, and all that was demonstrated was the promised tenderness.

He could feel Donnie return his act of affection only seconds later. Suddenly feeling bolder with his advance, Mikey stuck his tongue out and suggestively traced it across the other’s lips, silencing asking – never once demanding – for permission for further entrance, the permission he would receive after a brief wait.

Swiftly, the youngest terrapin slipped his tongue inside the open and inviting entrance and began exploring what lies beyond. His tongue twisted and turned inside Donnie’s mouth, effectively muffing any sounds the genius was trying to produce. Mikey was determined to leave no corner unchecked and no nook or cranny unexplored, and his determination was animated clearly as his tongue roamed unhindered.

Mikey continued to claim Donnie’s lips, and he only broke away when the need for air was too much. However, as soon as his lungs were filled, Mikey claimed the genius’ lips and mouth again.  

Donatello’s mind was completely lost, drowned amidst the maelstrom of sensations that his body was feeling. His breathing quickened and his fingers and toes curled up instinctively. His eyes were shut, and in the brief moment of darkness, he could feel his brothers’ touches and caresses even more clearly. His penis twitched inside his slit as if it possessed a mind of its own, demanding to come out.

“It’s okay, Donnie,” he heard the voice of Leo in the darkness, “Just let it out.”

And then, a feeling like none other hit Donnie, causing his back to arch and his breathing to quicken sharply. His eyes sprang open immediately, and once he was able to regain control of his functions, Donnie glanced down.

And his eyes widened at the sight.

Leonardo, crouching at the same position, was tentatively licking his slit, his tongue doing everything within its power to coax the genius’ confined organ out of its hiding spot while his free hand was caressing his own groin, pleasuring himself. The feeling was indescribable, and when put together with Raph’s treatment on his neck and inner left thigh and Mikey’s tongue inside him, sent his mind spiraling out of all control.

This is much more intense than I have imagined, his mind told him. Donnie remained still, allowing his brothers to run the show.

Soon, Donnie felt he could no longer keep his penis in hiding any longer, and with one final flick of Leo’s tongue against his nether region, the organ alas made its glorious appearance – hard and shivering in the air. A small trail of pre-cum, as Leo lustfully observed, could be seen dripping from the tip.

“Get ready, Donnie,” Leo said, but his words sounded distorted to Don’s ears. His feeble grasp on what remained of his rationality was finally erased from his mind when a rough hand grabbed his penis tightly, causing the genius’ body to convulse.

“Leo…It’s…Argh…” Donatello moaned, but his words were soon silenced by Michelangelo once more, reduced to muffed cries. Leonardo tightened his hold around the genius’ penis, and began moving, slowly at first. The speed soon picked up.

Donatello suddenly found himself lying flat on his shell seconds later with absolutely no recollection of how he ended up like that. What he did know was that both Raph and Mikey had at some point freed their own penises, and both of them were now hovering in front of his eyes, dripping wet with pre-cum and hard with anticipation.

“Now, Donnie-boy,” Raph said with a smirk as he eyed the genius’ completely exposed and vulnerable form hungrily, his cock twitched again, responding to his urges. “It’s your turn to pleasure us. Since it’s yer first time with us, ya can use just yer hands.”

Still in a daze thanks to Leo, Donnie could barely register what was being said, but once he understood the request, he wordlessly complied. The genius reached his hands forward and wrapped his fingers around both of the presented cocks before his eyes. Upon contact, both Raph and Mikey let out a moan respectively, their eyes screwed shut and their muscles tense.

“Y-Yeah…” Raph stammered through gritted teeth, glistening beads of sweats running down his body and falling on Donnie’s. “That’s…that’s amazing, Donnie…” he added after a brief pause, his voice slurry and barely audible, his words lost in a series of gaps and pants. Nearby, Mikey was faring no better against the skillful and nimble hand edging his penis toward climax. The youngest terrapin’s face contorted in sheer ecstasy, both eyes tightly shut, ridges drawn together and mouth agape, letting needy puffs of breath escape.

Donnie watched his brothers’ reactions through hazy eyes, and was pleased with what he was seeing – having his fantasy realized and played out right before him.

All of the sudden, his vision was filled with numerous dots of white when he felt Leo’s tongue grazing the tip of his erection. The swift action was then succeeded by something both comfortably hot and drenching wet wrapping itself around his quivering penis, completely covering the organ in its entirety. It took a while, but soon, he realized that it was Leo’s mouth, and that was his first fellatio he had ever been subjected to, and the feeling was truly, utterly beyond anything he had ever imagined.

“Ahh…That’s…That feels amazing, Leo…” Donnie muttered as he savored the sensations of the leader’s mouth around his penis, moving up and down in a steady rhythm. Excited and turned on by the naughty noises made by the genius, Leo picked up his pace, both on Donnie’s dick and his own. So immense was his pleasure that Donnie, for a moment, completely forgot about what he was supposed to be doing with his hands.

“Ahem!” Raph coughed impatiently as he shot the genius a glare, but in his daze, Don could barely see it.

“Hey D.,” Mikey spoke up this time, his voice whining not unlike usual when he wanted to get something from someone, “Don’t leave us hanging, bro!”

“Oh…Sorry…” replied Donatello briefly before he resumed his movements. The collective sighs of satisfaction came from Raph and Mikey were heard soon after.

The four continued, lost to the world. And in that moment, all they could think of was the same thing – to be released. Their desires for climax surged, higher and higher and higher, until at long last, their endurance was nearing its collapse.

“Urg…I’m gonna…” Raph grunted, his muscles flexed and fists tightened. “I don’t think I can hold back any longer.”

“Me…neither…” Mikey shouted out, eyes shut still and back arching backward. “Can’t…hold…Argh! I’m coming! I’m coming!”

Leo said nothing, but from the small whimpers and moans that escaped his busy mouth, it was apparent that he, too, was incredibly close.

“I’m…” Donnie tried to say something, but his vocal cords just did not seem to work properly. Only meaningless noises came out of his dry throat.

And then, their endurance finally gave out. And simultaneously, the turtles hit their long-awaited climaxes together. Some of Raph and Mikey’s cum matted the floor while most of them either landed on top of Donatello’s naked body or smeared the genius’ face. At the same time, Donnie’s seeds were shot directly into Leo’s mouth, and for a moment, they induced a gagging reaction and made it difficult for the leader to take in everything Donatello had just offered, but he got up to his knees and managed the feat, tentatively and greedily sucking and swallowing every last drop of milky essence as if they were the sweetest of nectars. Leo was the last to give out, sending his cum all over Donatello’s abdominal and torso, leaving a trail of white on the surface of the genius’ plastron.

They remained still where they were to catch their breath and at the same time allowed the aftermath to consume them, wash over them. The first release was incredible to Donatello, who had never had the chance to hit his most pleasurable state by the doing of another before, so he could not deny that it had been a mind-opening and mind-blowing experience all rolled into one.

Donnie could feel his erection growing softer and softer, but to his amazement, the others’ were still hard.

“Hey Donnie,” Leo spoke up, capturing his attention. He tried to sit up, but his strength failed him. If Raph had not reached down and helped him, he would have stayed where he was for a while longer.

Shaking his head and ridding himself of any lingering dazedness, Donnie looked at Leo and smiled. “What is it?” he asked.

“Can you…” Leo began, but he swiftly shook his head and corrected himself, “Do you want to continue?”

Now that the fog covering his brain had cleared up, Donatello was easily able to work out the meaning of the question. He looked down at Leo’s throbbing manhood briefly, and then directed his gaze at the other two kneeling by his side in silence, weighing his options. His ridges drew together in a thoughtful manner, and his mouth was set in a scowl. He knew that while he was finished, his brothers could still go on to the next level, and he really did not wish to disappoint anyone.

And yet at the same time, he knew that he was not yet ready for it, leaving him torn between pleasing the others or himself, and as the seconds ticked away, the former option gradually gained leverage on the latter.

Suddenly, a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder, causing Don’s train of thoughts to end abruptly. The genius looked up and was subsequently met with Leo’s kind, sympathetic eyes peering deeply into his own.

“Like we said, Don,” the leader began, his voice low and sincere, “If you don’t want to, all you need to do is say no. There’s no pressure or anything, so you don’t have to put on a brave front and try to please all of us in your first time. There’re lots of opportunities for later, okay.”

“But,” Don asked, somewhat relieved, “What about you?”

“Oh, we’ll just take care of the rest by ourselves in our private rooms,” Raph answered, and Mikey nodded eagerly as well.

“Yeah, Donnie,” the youngest said, chipper, “And don’t worry, dude. It only means that we have something to look forward to in the future! So don’t go worrying yourself stupid.”

Donatello’s face softened at the reassurances and his brothers’ understanding. But then, he assumed his musing expression and silently looked at the three. After a moment of silence for himself, Donatello leaned forward and planted a kiss on Leo again, much to the leader’s delightful surprise.

“Wha…” Leo was about to say, but a finger pressed against his mouth silenced him immediately.

“How about you let me take care of your problems?” Donatello asked, his head tilted to one side, a charming and inviting smile present on his lips. Before Leo could answer, Donnatello turned around to greet the others’ dumbfounded expressions. Then, in the same voice he had used, the genius added softly, “ _All_ of your problems. After all, these hands of mine are made for fixing things,” The toothy smile that accompanied that suggestion was just too breath-takingly mesmerizing to ignore, and unconsciously, the others’ members twitched again.

“D-Don…” Mikey stammered out, gulping to rid the imaginary constriction inside his throat, “You really don’t have to if you don’t want to, man. W-We can…”

And hand shooting out and unexpectedly grabbing his throbbing erection caused whatever was about to be uttered to die down in his mouth entirely, and in response to the sudden action, Mikey moaned and grunted. To appear even more persuasive, Donnie began to move his hand, making the younger to whimper.

“Oh, but I want to,” Donatello whispered, his slightly flushed face just inches away from the youngest terrapin’s. “That is, unless you don’t want me to.”

“Ya got some balls, Donnie. Alright, fine by me,” Raph laughed and threw his hand over Donatello’s shoulder, pulling him close. In response, Donnie only smiled and then set out to work. Leo, Raph and Mikey each took their turn and soon, each of them lost themselves in bliss as Donatello, true to his words, relieved them of their built-up tensions with his nimble fingers alone.

The rest of the lazy morning continued to pass idly by, and it was approximately three hours later that they the turtles finally emerged from the lab, cleaned up, decent and all geared up. And strangely, each them wore a respective expression of content and happiness, and the smiles and smirks that adorned their lips could not have possibly been wider.   

...


	13. Omen

Left Out

Arc 2: Dancing Shadows

Chapter 13: Omen

Even though she knew that high school was a very important stage through which she had to pass in order to unlock the numerous possibilities toward her future, April O’Neil could not help but allow a sigh of annoyance, in which trace of sadness and a bit of resignation were also subtly conveyed, carried away by the long release of air. She remembered school had, at some time in the not so distant past, not been such a tedious affair to suffer through – difficult and riddled with teenage drama and projects, yes, but at least then, everything had been tolerable for they had been normal, understandable, _predictable_. Now, April did not see so much sense as to why she had to go to her high school anyway, not after everything she had been subjected to.

Aliens, mutants, ninja, assassins, ninja mutants and assassins, dream demons, ghosts and many more unpredictable appearances that she feared she would have to encounter at some point in the future – a thought that made her head ache with dread…She had been in the epicenter of it all, and yet, she could not believe that everything that had happened was remotely plausible - it was like the she had been the American version of Alice, sucked into a tale filled with magic and adventures and dangers and thrills, with ups and downs and loops around, and this tale’s ending was yet to be written, resulting in a never-ending plot that stretched on and on for an indefinite amount of time.

Closing her locker’s door after she had retrieved her physics textbook, April’s eyes unconsciously drifted toward the shut locker located right next to her own. Once again, another string of breath, this one more depressing than the last, was released. Her mind flashed back to the time when Irma had been beside her, chatting enthusiastically about trivia that hardly anybody cared about. And as it turned out, none of that had been real, just a disguise conjured by the Kraang, a front, a façade specifically designed to fool her into lowering her guard. Her last best friend had been but an illusion.

“Great,” the teenage girl muttered as she gently massaged her throbbing template with her free hand, blue eyes shut tightly, as she recomposed herself. “First period hasn’t even started and I’m already feeling this down in the dump,” she muttered under her breath and continued the impromptu treatment. However, even with eyes closed, she could still sense everything around, and it did not take her very long to pick out one in particular among her peers, heading straight toward her position with a steady strait.

“Morning, Casey,” April said, eyes still shut.

“Woah,” the addressed boy chuckled, impressed and humored at the same time, “Your telepathy’s getting better and better by the day, Red,” he remarked with a smile.

“Thanks, but I wouldn’t call it telepathy, and I’m been getting a lot of help from Master Splinter about it. It’s much better not to have your brain fried when you assimilate in the crowd, you know,” April replied, finally looking at her friend fully, “Now then, what can I do for you this early in the morning?”

“Eh…Can’t I just pass by and say hi?” asked the boy, his smile strained and forced. April was less than impressed. She said nothing, and only stood still, looking at him with one eyebrow raised and her free hand on her hip. After a few seconds, Casey relented, and he slumped in defeat.

“How do you know?” he asked rhetorically, running his hand down his face.

“First thing to remember, when you speak to an empath, don’t lie,” April replied, amused, “And second thing, I’ve known you long enough to read your body language, Casey. You only smile like that when one of the following happens, (a) you want something, and (b) You and Raph break something, and since it’s this early in the morning, I’ll say I’ll place my chips on the former. So just spill the beans.”

Casey’s eyes widened a little as he regarded his friend, but soon, his bewildered expression dissipated, giving way for a smile and subsequently, a head shake.

“Man, you’re rad, Red. Okay, I’ll come clean. Truth is, I need some help with my chemistry…again. After all of that time hiding in the barn and then coming back and training with the guys and the feuds with the Purple Dragons and all that drama, I kind of…well, forgot everything you taught me, and there’s a test coming up next week…” he admitted, offering April a skittish smile.

“Seriously?” April cried out, disbelief written all over her face as she regarded her vigilante friend.

“Hey, it’s been months since school resumed, you know, cut me some slack,” Casey retorted, defensive.

“You know, after we got the city back, you could have asked Donnie for some help. He taught me most of what I know, and if I’m honest, and I am, he’s much better at explaining science-related stuff better than anyone here, my dad included.”

“I know that, but, well…” Casey fumbled with his words. He rubbed the palm of his arm against the sleeve of other and looked down, avoiding the girl and her piercing gaze. A slight blush decorated his face. “I was hoping, you know, maybe you could do that…I…seem to learn better when you’re the one to teach me,” he started, unusually quiet for someone so infuriatingly boisterous and reckless in his every conduct and manner.

April stood still, a bit surprised by her friend’s admittance. Soon, her surprise faded, and she shook her head, a fond and amused smile apparent on her lips.

“Alright, I get it. I’ll help you with the subject. Wait for me at the gate after school, we’ll head to my place and study there.”

“Cool!” was the reply she received from the hockey enthusiast, along with a happy grin on the boy’s face. “It’s a date then!”

With that said, the boy whisked away and made for his classroom. April lingered for a while longer and watched as Casey’s frame mingled with the plethora of bodies in the hall until he was gone from sight completely. She sighed again and then headed for her own class as well, already feeling much lighter than when she had first entered through the school gate.

The day passed by idly and uneventfully, and all of her classes seemed like a blur, unmemorable. Most of the materials were indeed new and throughout the first half of the school day, she had even found some of them to be interesting, but for the most part, her mind had been elsewhere, unfocused and detached from reality. After all, the materials and knowledge covered in the school curriculum greatly paled in comparison when put next to what she knew from her own various experiences with the turtles. Sciences that she had once thought only existed in sci-fi flicks her father loved to watch during the weekends were all real, frighteningly so and far more dreadful than anything she had seen in movies. Monstrous and miraculous mutations that challenged and inevitably eradicated all known laws of biology existed in ways which normal humans could hardly begin to fathom, one of which was her own existence – a hybrid mutant like none other she had crossed path with, one impervious to the effects of the mutagenic ooze and gifted, or cursed, with powers that far exceeded all manners of mortal comprehension.

So far lost in her own musing that she had completely grown physically unaware of her surroundings, and only when the resounding noise of the school bell assaulting her unsuspecting ears did she jolt and return to the present. It was time for lunch. With a huff, April grabbed her bag and made her way outside the classroom, but she did not make her way for the cafeteria, but the library instead.

Kirby, having been subjected to forced mutation and turned into genetic abominations twice, was paranoid about her safety, and the latest attack made by Karai did not help improve his overly protective mindset regarding his daughter’s safety. Thus, the man had made it a point to make sure she was safe. It had started out small at first, with a set curfew for weekdays with exceptions made for her scheduled training sessions with master Splinter, but then, his concern had stretched toward her meals and exercises. Kirby had made it a point to get up earlier than usual to make her lunch, “At least I know _I_ can’t possibly poison my own daughter when I’m still sane,” he had said, and April had been forced to relent, knowing that it had been one fight she had been doomed to lose from the very beginning. Therefore, she had agreed to his ultimatums.

Now, walking along the vacated hallway with two medium-sized homemade ham and veggie sandwiches in her hand, April made her way toward the school library, seeking the comfort and peace of solitude for a brief while, allowing a brief, passing moment of reprieve to enter her inconceivable life for as long as possible – a welcoming break from everything. Quickly gulping down the food and finishing everything, the girl discarded the wrapping in a trash can nearby and continued on her way.

And as she walked, April did not look back, and as a result, she failed to notice a small, hairy fly perching on top of the recently discarded plastic bag that had once contained her lunch, its legs rubbing against one another and its huge red eyes trained solely on her retreating back. The moment April disappeared at the end of the hall, the creature took off and followed, stealthily and silently as death.

The girl reached the library approximately five minutes later, and once she had taken a seat near the window, April settled down and began to work on her homework for the day, trying to get a head-start on her own projects to make time for helping out Casey.

Her physics homework was moderately challenging and somewhat stimulating, but she was able t conquer every question with relative ease, one of the greatest merits of having a genius as a friend, she thought with a fond chuckle. The image of Donatello smiling at her suddenly popped up in her mind, bringing forth the occasions where he would get flustered and stammering every time his rich brown eyes laid upon her, and how he would display that signature toothy smile every time she visited – occurrences she found to be most endearing. Unbeknownst to everyone else, however, April noticed that those smiles and antics had been scarce as of late, and while Donatello would still act affectionately toward her, his actions no longer held the original awkwardness in them.

And April understood. She had come to the conclusion that the tiny spark in the turtle had died down, and that his childish crush was gone, whisked away from existence, replaced by nothing more than a platonic kind of affection, the likes of which a brother would display toward his own sibling. Though somewhat saddened by that fact, April was also happy at that thought, for at last, Donatello was ready to pursue his own romance, and she wholeheartedly hoped that this time, his quest for love would not lead him to another dead-end as his previous one had.

“I’m gonna miss that Donnie, though,” April said as she watched another wayward leaf and the wind conduct their dance, swaying and twisting along with the airy background symphony until at last, the wind moved on, leaving its partner behind to touch the ground, gently and softly.   

Shaking her head and gathering her focus, April decided to carry on with her work, and soon, the steady noises of pencil rummaging across a papery surface along with the flipping of pages were heard, filling the distinct void of silence within the almost empty library.

Approximately twenty minutes later, she was finished, and collected her books and notes. Twenty more minutes until the next class began, so that left plenty of time for a bit more daydreaming on her part. And April did just that, her slender frame leaning forward slightly toward the window and head neatly tucked on top of one palm.    

April allowed her mind to wander again, this time thinking about the turtles with whom she had become almost inseparable as of late. Indeed, their relationships had experienced ups and downs, but after everything that had happened and every challenge that she had pushed through with them and Casey, April, smiling fondly as her eyes looked at the mostly empty schoolyard, was proud, utterly and indescribably proud that she had found friends – family – with whom she could share her joy and sorrow, and with whom she could entrust her very existence to without a neither a second thought nor hesitation.

“I wonder what they’re doing now?” she spoke to herself absent-mindedly. A smile crossed her lips as she muttered followed by another bout of silent snicker, “Probably fighting with each other again, huh. Must be fun to have siblings to mess around with, but I have to wonder how master Splinter managed to miraculously keep them in line by himself all those years ago…”

April’s voice grew soft at that point. Her eyes became detached, and were then directed away from the schoolyard and skyward at the blue, clear heavens above. “Being a single father must have been tough on him…” muttered the girl again, something akin to sadness and regret lacing her tone. And in an even softer murmur, she whispered wistfully, and only one word escaped her slightly trembling lips, “Mother…”

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze against her flesh, and then…

Throb. A pair of crimson eyes and a menacing grin, unnaturally wide…

With a start and a sharp gasp, April immediately bolted up from her seat and whipped her entire body around, eyes frantically darting across the empty space before her in search of something. This particular something was rather abstract, one that she knew not, but she was certain of one simple fact.

It was oddly familiar, and yet distinctly malicious. And those images that entered her mind within one brief second…those eyes…where had she seen them before…She felt like she could recognize them, but at the same time, she could not – a puzzling affair indeed.

“What in the world was that?” she wondered as she meticulously surveyed the area around her, the Tessen ready in hand.

However, nothing out of the ordinary could be spotted, and that sudden sense of dread was no longer present in her mind. Picking up her bag, April swiftly walked away from the library, her gait prompt and speedy, if not a little bit too hasty. Within seconds, she was gone.

But if the girl had taken a second to look toward the ceiling a few seconds after her sudden flash, she would have seen a singular spot of black standing out amidst the white background, staring down at her and carefully studying every single step she had made.

…           

The rest of the day was a blur not unlike the first half, and the exact moment the bell rang, signaling the end of the final period, April could not help but sigh in content. While she did not resent school like many of her peers, she still found it somewhat tiresome – useful and important, but tiresome still.

She made her way toward her locker to put a few books away for the day before making for the school gate where Casey was waiting for her, his bike by his side.

“You ready to go?” asked the boy with his cocky grin on.

“Sure. I can’t wait to get out of this place,” the girl agreed and sighed, a small frown upon her visage.

“Bad day?” asked Casey, eyes narrowed in concern.

“Nah…I’m just…” April paused, finding the right words to describe her day without needlessly worrying Casey, “A bit out of it, really. Couldn’t focus on my schoolwork much with everything else still weighing on my mind. The guys, and my dad and Karai and all…”

“I get ya, Red,” Casey agreed and nodded sagely, “Practice today was a nightmare for me, too. I kept spacing out when I was supposed to score. Too much on my mind kept me distracted the entire day as well, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen coach that mad at me before, and when I say mad, I mean _raging_ mad, like a-rampaging-bull mad or like Raph-when-he-realizes-you-just-ate-his-slice-of pizza mad,” the athlete stopped for a moment and chuckled in amusement, making light of his own dismay, “Oh well, I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”   

“Sounds nasty,” April winced, trying to imagine that hellish sight, or to be more specific, pull it straight out from that one exact memory regarding the hotheaded ninja. With a cough, she continued, “Well, we’d better go before we lose the light. I don’t trust the security of these streets at night, and...” Another pause, and the teenage girl glanced back at the school building, dread and suspicion clearly displayed in the frown that was currently adorning her face.

“What is it, April?” Casey asked, looking to the direction his friend was staring at, but he saw nothing strange, just the last of the students vacating the building and chatting among themselves. April, seemingly broken out of her trance seconds later, greeted Casey’s concerned gaze and offered a small smile of reassurance.

“Nah…It’s nothing. It must have been my mind playing trick on me with all of this stress and worry. Let’s go!”

Casey still appeared a bit skeptical, but he put the matter to rest and did not press. After all, it was getting home safely that was more important. Once April was seated on the back of his bike, the boy pedaled off toward her house for their planned study session.

“Man, my body’s sore from all the exercising!” he whined, trying to shatter the silence hanging around them as he controlled his vehicle, “If only I could use my hot rod for transportation, now that would be much easier for everyone.”

April allowed a real smile to form despite herself, “Sure, and then get arrested for over-speeding and hitting stuff just for the fun of it. And I’m pretty sure you would have a hard time explaining the rod’s origin. I doubt saying, ‘I built the thing myself,’ would sit right with the police.”

Both Casey and April laughed, and they would converse as they rode.

Right behind them, a small, furry creature followed, its numerous ommatidia capturing the images of the two teenagers from a safe distance behind the unsuspecting duo. The creature continued, silently and stealthily stalking its targets.

Inside a dark, almost lightless room, an individual sat still, narrowed crimson eyes trained on the flickering screen before him, a sinister grin stretching the corners of his lips as he watched the two teens ride away, clueless to the storm that he was about to bring forth.

“It’s time,” he spoke into the earphone in a voice that was not dissimilar from an animalistic growl. And from the device, three other voices replied.

“Copy that,” they said in turn before they went silent.

Letting out a cruel, bone-chilling chuckle, his deranged and haunting laughter hitting and bouncing off the soundproofed walls of his personal chamber, he redirected his attention at the screen once more. His eyes closely and hungrily watched as the two teens carried on their conversation and jokes. 

“Little children on the run,  
Playing, chatting, having fun,  
Oh how I love to share your joy,  
And twist it up with my own ploy.  
I spy with these eyes of mine…”

He chanted in a dreaded sing-song tone, and paused briefly, running his tongue across his lips before he resumed the utterance of the last line of his self-composed poem.

“The vision in which you. Will. Die!”

Another burst of insane cackle was released, smothering the silence and filling the dark, lightless abyss within which the lone demon stayed seated.            


	14. Assailants

Left Out

Arc 2: Dancing Shadows

Chapter 14: Assailants

April tried her utter best to put her racing mind at ease, desperately convincing herself that the nagging feelings bubbling inside of her was just an illusion of her own conjuring, a needless irrational delusion birthed by her own worries and paranoia.

It seems dad’s been rubbing off on me, she mentally sighed and shook her head in an attempt to rid the lingering sensations, yet, they persisted, its immaterial presence wrapping itself around her entire being like a thick, massive anaconda that was gradually tightening its hellish hold against its captured prey, waiting for the right time to come to dine upon its eventual feast of the day. Involuntarily, the teenage girl shivered slightly in the back seat of Casey’s bike, even though it was not that cold at this particular time of the year. Every few minutes, she would cast her look behind, her eyes wary and body language measured, but what she was hoping to see, she knew not.

For the first nine times, Casey had said nothing, but when April, oblivious to the fact that the boy could still feel her restless shifting and catch sight of her turning around thanks to his rear-view mirror, glanced at her back again and nine turned into ten, Casey decided that it was time to voice his curiosity and concern toward her unusual relentlessness, which had been displayed ever since their departure.

Eyes still trained on the road before him, Casey suddenly spoke up.

“Okay, let’s be honest here, April,” he started, and the addressed teen turned around to stare at her friend’s back, “What’s going on with you? And don’t start with the ‘I’m fine’ bull, ‘cause I can tell you’re anything but fine.”

At first April had intended to do just that, but seeing that she had no other viable excuses for the occasion, she sighed and surrendered without putting up any resistance.

“You’re more perceptive than you look, Casey. I’m impressed,” she remarked, smiling somewhat proudly. Casey, on the other hand, simply shrugged.

“Hey, you’re not the only one taking lessons from master Splinter, and when you’re friends with those guys, you pretty much have to be to prepare for literally anything. Seriously though, quit changing the subject and spill it, Red. What’s bothering ya?”

April did not reply immediately, and instead, she simply looked at the space behind her one more time, eyes narrowed and beaming with caution and alertness. Another repressed huff of air escaped her lips, and she spoke, voice soft as if fearing she was currently being listened in on.

“To be honest, I don’t know myself. I’ve been having this strange feeling like someone… _something_ has been following and watching me since lunch, but every time I turned around, nothing. And I tried sensing, but nothing came up…except one time when I was in the library.”

“What did you see?” Casey asked, seriousness lacing his voice.

“Nothing much, just a blur of fragmented images. A pair of red eyes in the dark and a grin…And both of them felt familiar somehow, like I was supposed to know them.”

“Do you?” asked the boy, and April thought for a moment, raking her brain for an answer. Seconds later, she shook her head.

“No, not really. The only person with eyes that are remotely red that I know is Donnie, but his are more geared toward brown. The eyes I saw in my flash were darker, almost blood-red, with a sinister glint in them...”

“Hmm, sounds like you’ve been reading way too much vampire stories as of late, Red. But considering the facts that we have seen aliens and ghosts and even a freaking Big Foot, that a vampire existed wouldn’t be that impossible,” Casey joked, trying to ease her tension a little, and the tone with which he spoke implied that he believed his friend wholly and completely. Even his grip on the handles of his bike was harder, and his body posture screamed alertness, as April noticed. Adding another light-hearted chuckle, Casey carried on as he neared the corner, “Maybe you’ve caught the eyes of one, and he’s following you to know where you live and then watch you sleep at night.”

At this point, April did not bother refraining herself from rolling her eyeballs at her friend’s attempt at humor. But a ghost of a smile was still present on her lips, seemingly amused by his remark.

“Yeah, right!” she retorted and slapped his back playfully, causing the other to let out a mock yelp of pain accompanied by a string of snickers.

“Come on, Red,” Casey answered, turning the corner, “You need to stop…Whoa!”

Whatever he was about to say instantly died down in his throat as the sound of deflating rubber reached his ears and his control over the vehicle grew shaky and unstable. Fingers swiftly pressing the brake and forcing the bike into a halt, Casey then planted his feet on the ground and turned around.

“You okay?” he asked, and April nodded before getting off.

“What happened?” asked the girl as she and Casey crouched down to inspect the front tire.

“Flat,” Casey concluded with a grimace, “Must have run over a nail or something like that…Oh well, looks like we’re walking the rest of the way.”

“Yeah. But let’s hurry up,” April paused a bit and looked at the empty street around them, noticing that there was next to no-one in sight. The light was fading fast, and soon, night would be upon them. “I have a bad feeling about this…”

“You worry too much, April,” Casey said dismissively, but she noticed that the zipper of the bag containing his hockey stick was already open, partially revealing the object which he employed with incredible proficiency.

“It’s hard not to, Case, because our lives haven’t been…” suddenly, the rest of her sentence was caught in her throat as another vision entered her mind, unbidden.

Shadows dancing in the dead of night, reflected on the side of a bulding by the city lights - The same building that was currently behind her and Casey at that very instance. Immediately and wordlessly, she reached for her Tessen and opened it, ready for trouble.

“Wha…” Casey muttered questioningly, but his fingers were, on reflex, already tightly wrapped around his weapon.

“Something is coming,” April said briefly in a tone that conveyed the severity of the situation. “Contact the guys now.”

Without a second of hesitation, Casey reached for his pocket and produced his own T-phone. Unfortunately, before his thumb could press the call button on the device, a shuriken was shot out from the dark alley nearby and impaled the object, deactivating it upon impact, much to the teens’ shock and horror. Upon closer inspection, the projectile had an insignia crafted upon its smooth surface.

“The Foot,” both Casey and April growled, their bodies tense.

“Quit hiding, cowards!” shouted Casey, his stick now fully held in hands and his eyes meticulously covering the area around them. At first, silence greeted his question, and then, a sudden noise of trash can being toppled over and hitting the ground assaulted their ears, prompting them to stay closer to each other, back-to-back. “Show yourself!”

Silence. Eerie and mortifying silence fell upon the two. April shoved her free hand into her pocket and pressed the emergency button, sending a distress signal to the turtles.

All of the sudden, both teens heard a snicker and looked up only to spot a humanoid silhouette emerging from the fire escape of a nearby apartment and lunging right for their location, his twin swords raised and ready for the kill.

Moments before the blades could slash through their flesh, both Casey and April leaped forward in opposite direction, dodging the strike. Then, with movements swift and precise, both teens regained their footing and dashed toward the mysterious assailant between them from both sides.

April executed a low horizontal slash with her Tessen aimed at the opponent’s feet, but her attack was easily avoided when the assassin jumped to the air. That, however, was her intention all along as part of her maneuvers with Casey.

“Now!” she signaled, and the vigilante nodded, a smirk present on his face. With a prompt swing of his arms, the boy swept his hockey stick across his opponent’s airborne form, aimed at the more vulnerable midsection. Hit strike landed, but instead of hitting the intended part, it struck the assailant’s elbows. The force of the strike successfully managed to knock the shadowy figure backward, but he easily broke his fall with an expertly performed flip, landing on two feet and appearing completely unharmed as a result.

“This guy’s no ordinary Foot ninja,” Casey commented as he joined April’s side once more.

“I know, he’s more malicious than anything I’ve met, but there is something…unnervingly familiar about him.”

“Well, let’s ask him later when we beat him stupid! Eat putt, punk!” the boy cried and dropped his putt right before him. Taking aim and swinging his stick with lethal precision, Casey sent the harmless object flying toward the target at a speed that turned it into a nasty projectile that could seriously leave a grown man severely injured. The shot was easily deflected by the assassin almost effortlessly.

“That’s all?” asked the figure, his voice resembling a feral growl, as he insistently lurked in the darkness. From where April and Casey were standing, they could vaguely make out a humanoid shape covered completely from head to toe with a ragged, dark-colored cloak that allowed the wearer to perfectly blend in with the shadows, as well as two cold, ice-blue eyes shining brightly in contrast with the blob of shadow concealing the individual. “Pathetic! I was expecting more of a challenge, but if this is all you’re capable of, then it means that I had set my expectation too high from two half-baked fighters.”

“We’ll see about that!” Casey retorted, irked by the mocking words and tone of the assassin. He was about to lunge forward again, but April, suddenly noticing something amiss, extended her hand and stopped the boy in his track, much to the latter’s bewilderment.

“No Casey, it’s a trap,” she said simply and directed her gaze at the darkened alleyway behind the assassin. “He’s not alone.”

“Kudos to the lady,” said the assassin with a hearty chuckle. And as soon as he said that, two more individuals emerged from behind him and stood next to him. They both dressed in the same fashion, dark cloaks and masks that effectively concealed everything except for their eyes. The shortest one possessed blue eyes, but not as cold and intense as the shade of the first one’s orbs. His were baby blue, and they seemed to carry a sense of mischief and malice in the way they stared at the humans. The last one, as Casey and April noticed, seemed to be the bulkiest among the trio, possessed bottle green eyes, and as she stared into them, April could feel a dread sweeping over her like a tidal wave, for in them, there was nothing, just an empty abyss filled with naught but pure malice and killing intent – a soul with a complete lack of a conscience as a moral compass.       

“The big cheese was right about you, girlie,” said the shortest assassin as he threw his weapon over his shoulders and crouched down. His was a weapon that was not at all recognizable to April, and in her eyes, it appeared to be a long, foldable staff with three separate sections linked together by chains. Ignoring the glare shot at him by the girl, the blue-eyed assassin continued as he settled down on the ground, not minding the dirt one bit.

“You have quite a nifty ability to see things hardly anyone else can. Man, I want one of those!” he added, resting his chin on top of his palm in a pouty manner, like a sulking child who had been denied a treat. But the humans knew it was a ruse.

“What do you want from us?”

“Nothing much,” said the bulky one this time, and his voice was low, monotonous even, completely devoid of any and all emotions. “Just a few pints of your blood and maybe some cell tissues while we’re at it, or we’ll just collect a few limbs just in case.”

The scary thing was that he was being honest – mortifyingly honest.

“And since we are feeling a bit tipsy today for waking up on the wrong side of the bed, we’re giving you a choice to settle this without too much of a fuss,” said the sword-wielding assassin as he took a small step forward, weapons at the ready. “Come with us willingly, and maybe you’ll still be breathing by the time we’re done…”

“Or what?” Casey asked, unfazed by the advance.

The other said nothing else. Instead, he raised one sword and pointed it at the humans while slowly running the other one across the air before his neck. Casey’s eyes narrowed, and his face twisted into a scowl.  

“Let’s see you try, creep!” Casey shouted, but did not give in to the taunt. April leaned closer and whispered into his ears, “The guys are coming, until they get here, don’t try anything rash.”

“I know,” he whispered back, but his eyes were still trained on the three figures before him.

“I take it it’s a no?” asked the cloaked figure. Silent glares were the only response the two teens sent him. With a dismissive shrug, the assailant entered his battle stance once more and wordlessly, he leaped forward. Flashes of swings danced brilliantly across the clear surroundings, accompanied by the sounds of metals clashing against one another. April and Casey, though having improved much in the art of melee combat, quickly realized that despite their combined efforts, they were being fought to a complete standstill by one single assassin alone. Every swing they made was easily parried and countered, every strike returned with more viciousness, and every long-ranged attack was neutralized.

And the scary part was that the other two assailants had yet to enter the fray. They remained where they were, studying the battle, but the seated one did seem to be bored by what he was seeing.

“Man, I demand a refund! This show sucks!” he whined childishly and sank his chin deeper into his palm, and for a brief second, out of her peripheral vision, April could have sworn she had seen three fingers where five should have been. Her mind was quickly dragged back into the battle at hand, and the kunoichi in training fanned her Tessen and blocked a deadly stab aimed directly at her throat.

Casey intervened and forced the opponent away from her before he could make his next move, much to her relief. Nodding in gratitude at her savior and partner, April then swiftly returned her full attention of the sword-swinging menace before her, trying to anticipate his next moves. But this opponent proved tricky, never once letting her see anything, and even with her ability, his mind was like a closed book, locked away from her prying gaze.

“What’s wrong, sister?” asked the assailant, and even though his face was well hidden behind a dark mask around, she could almost hear his smirk, patronizing and condescending. “Having reading difficulties?”

April took her own advice and refused to be affected by his taunting, instead, she focused on buying as much time as possible until reinforcement arrived. Unexpectedly, a foreign series of sounds, sounding very much like blades cutting through the air, entered her ears, coming from the spot where the other assailants were located. Glancing toward that direction, her and Casey’s eyes immediately widened as they spotted the short fighter standing up and warming up, weapon twirling around in complex and unreadable patterns.

“That’s it,” he said impatiently and stopped spinning the tri-sectioned staff, eyes jumping from April to Casey, shining with a sense of childish playfulness and mischief of the malevolent kind. “Time for me to covet some fun! And I think I’ll have fun bashing them skulls open!”

In an instant, his hands grabbed the two outer sections of his weapon and made a beeline for Casey. His attacks were as deadly as they were unpredictable. Swings after swings after swings continued to rain down upon the vigilante in torrents, never once letting up, and the fact that the weapon the assailant was using offered him a visible advantage in terms of attack range did little to help improve the hockey player’s predicament. Every strike he executed was easily countered by his opponent, much to his chagrin.

Knowing that he was at a clear disadvantage in this battle, Casey chose the most rational course of actions against this new threat, opting to continuously dodge and keep his distance, patiently waiting for an opportunity to strike back. When he thought he had spotted one the moment his opponent stopped spinning his arm, the boy swung as hard as he could, his stick directed at the other’s shoulder. Unfortunately, his attempt proved fruitless. With one swift spin of his body, the cloaked figure was easily able to parry the attack with the middle section of his staff. Before Casey could react and retract his stick, the individual quickly wrapped the other two sections around the hockey stick, forming a triangle lock around it, and with a simple twist of his arms, he made the vigilante’s makeshift weapon snap.

“Come on, hockey boy, at least entertain me with _something_!” the staff-wielding assailant whined again, but his attacked never let up. His tri-section staff continuously slashed through the air in circular motions, swung with vicious velocity. Casey, now unarmed, could only curse the fact that he did not have all of his gears with him, and thus, was rendered almost helpless against the menace he was dealing with. The best he could do was dodge the strikes, and that soon proved to be a difficult endeavor.

As a result, they boy was getting pushed further and further away from April.

Back to April, she, too, was experiencing difficulties of her own, for while she was skilled with her Tessen, the lone object could not block the attacks of two swords coming toward her at the same time. Her opponent moved with fluidity and strength unlike those displayed by the mediocre Foot ninja. His attacks were all aimed at areas close to her vitals, and it was apparent that he was intent on incapacitating her in the most painful and gruesome manner possible, disregarding any form of compassion as long his mission was carried out.

“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” he said as he clashed both of his swords against the girl’s weapon. His strength was superior, and April, drenched in her sweats from the exertion, quickly found herself getting pinned down. However, she refused to be defeated without a fight, but her efforts, unfortunately, could not get her very far. Her opponent sneered and let out a chuckle, humored by her attempt to push back.

“But let’s face it, I’m simply better,” he followed up on the previous statement, and in demonstration, he poured more strength into his arms and consistently forced April backward, much to the girl’s dismay. With a frown and stream of growls elicited from her throat, she tried to withstand the attack.

Suddenly, the scowl on her face was reversed into a sly smirk, momentarily surprising her opponent.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Oh nothing much,” she replied, her smirk growing wider and more mysterious, “I just remember a lesson that both my master and best friend taught me a while back.”

“Oh? And what’s that on? Seppuku?” the cloaked assailant asked, sarcastic.

“No, inertia.”

The exact moment those words left her mouth, April voluntarily nullified the force she put behind her Tessen and utilized the smooth blade of her fan to slide it off the swords pressing against it. At the same time, she swiftly and nimbly spun out of the path on the toe of one foot and got to the assailant’s side. Now that the opposite force was nullified, the sword-swinging assailant, pulled forward by his own momentum and the force of gravity, tumbled forward and for a brief moment, lost his balance and his stance – an opportunity April could not possibly pass by.

In a flash, April unleashed a powerful horizontal slash across the other’s exposed backside. The sharp blade of her fan tore through the ragged fabric and collided with what lied beyond. A loud clanking noise sounded, followed by a grunt made by the assailant. April was intent on delivering a second slash, but that thought was foiled when her opponent jumped and rolled away out of her reach.

When he stood upright again, his hood fell off, and his back was facing April still.

And in that moment, the girl could not help but widen her eyes in utter, unadulterated shock, further emphasized by the unconscious gasp that left her throat.

Clearly shown behind the destroyed cloak was unmistakably a turtle shell, and now that the hood had been pulled down, she also spotted a pale green cranium hidden underneath, along with two flowing tails of a jet-black mask wrapped around the eyes.

And when the assailant turned around to regard her, April could not believe her eyes.

For standing before her at that very moment was a mutant turtle, but this one was not just any mutant, for she knew that face, and those eyes, different yet the same in the most terrifying way imaginable. And as if prompted by some sort of spell of compulsion, one name left her trembling lips, a name she had used times and times over, but never before had it been spoken in a such a fashion – filled with shock and fear. That one single word left her lips and echoed hollowly in the dark, empty street around them, soft as a whisper of the gentlest of breeze.

“Leo?” she muttered. The addressed simply stood still before his fingers reached for and pulled off the mask around his beak, revealing a pale green face, upon which a devious smirk was plastered. It was a sight both familiar and foreign at the same time.   

To her surprise, the unmasked turtle snickered at the name and shook his head.

“Close, but not quite,” he said, spinning his jian with his fingers, “The name’s Leon, ending with an ‘n’, short for Leonhard or something like that I’m not sure, so sic it in, sister, and don’t forget it.”

“Who are you?” April asked after her control over her own functions returned. The turtle pale before her simply shot her a grin not unlike the first one, inhuman and cruel.

“Your worst nightmare made real,” he replied before his hand grabbed the handle of his jian once more. The battle resumed, and April quickly found herself overwhelmed by her opponent’s sheer tenacity and savagery in battle. His movements were much like Leo’s, but his control was lacking severely, showing absolutely no form of self-restraints, and that made him dangerous.

April could barely keep up with his strikes, swift and precise slashes made by his Chinese blades. They danced across her vision with ferocity and mastery, like a pair of enraged snakes trying to ensnare her. One of his strikes slashed her across her arm, but luckily, only her shirt was grazed. Unhesitant, Leon approached and once again kept his target pinned down in place, applying pressure on the Tessen with his swords.  

“Face it, your inferiority is apparent, our differences are as clear as the sun and the moon, so why don’t you just do us all a favor and surrender. That’ll make things much easier, no?”

April said nothing this time, gritting her teeth and doing her best. She considered using the same tactic, but knew that it would be most unwise to attempt the same maneuver twice. The looks in the turtle’s eyes confirmed her speculation. She was being overpowered, but there was not much she could do.

“Hey!” shouted a voice from above, the familiarity of it ringing in her head like a snatch of music. “Leave her alone!”

The pressure on her fan disappeared shortly after the sudden yet welcoming exclamation, and when she opened her eyes to look, the sight of a shell greeted them, along with two flowing tails of blue fluttering in the air.

“Leo!” April cried out, joyous and relieved that her cavalry had at last arrived. “You are a sight for sore eyes.”

“Stand back, April, I’ll handle this…” Leo took a moment to study the turtle before him warily – an almost splitting image of himself except for the paler complexion and mask of midnight black. With measured breathing, he quietly added, “This monster.”

“Hey,” Leon replied, chuckling still, “If I’m a monster, what does that make you, blue?”

“Someone with enough honor to know that picking on innocent people is wrong, especially a lady, faker.”

Immediately after finishing his retort, Leonardo dashed forward. Twin katanas and dual jians clashed, and the consecutive sounds of metal against metal rang dangerously in the air, resounding and clear in the empty street. April could only remain still where she was and watched as the two skilled swordsmen battled to an epic stalemate, neither landing a hit on the other.

Another non-threatening presence emerged behind her, and she turned around. She was greeted by the sight of Donatello standing dutifully and protectively by her side, Bo staff in hands in readiness.

“Whatever happens, April, don’t leave my side, okay,” he ordered, and the girl nodded with a small smile. Suddenly, her memory struck, and she widened her eyes in realization. “Oh my gosh, what about Casey? He’s in trouble!”

“He’s fine, Mikey’s with him as we speak, and Raph is keeping a lookout for the last guy…” A series of grunting noises followed by strings of yelling and cursing ensued, attracting both April and Donnie’s attention to the source. Their eyes fell on the sight of Raphael engaging in combat with the bulky assailant a little distance away, his twin sais keeping pace with the furious strikes of the others’ strange-looking pair of red tonfas, which he wielded with extreme proficiency.  

Donnie sighed and shook his head, “My mistake, Raph is _hitting_ the last guy, and I’m assigned to be your bodyguard. Now come on, let’s get you out of here and below ground, pronto.”

“But, what about the others?” April asked, worried.

“Don’t worry. They’ll be fine. They can handle themselves while we…Look out!” Donatello cried out with urgency, his voice coming out a screech. In one swift motion, the purple-banded ninja spun his staff and knocked away a knife coming straight from behind. His reaction was carried out in the nick of time, only seconds before the projectile impaled April.

“Who’s there?” Donatello shouted, assuming his stance and getting ready, his eyes narrowed and directed at the blob of shadows behind. April followed his line of vision and spotted another cloaked individual standing a little distance away.

The character then approached, a Chinese spear tightly grasped in hand, and voluntarily pulled his hood down to unveil his terrapin head and face. Two crimson, devil-like eyes stared at April, and she gasped again, loud and clear, as she recognized them – the same eyes that she had seen watching her in the library earlier.

“What’s wrong, April?” Donnie asked, but his vision stayed fixed on the new opponent as he continued to approach them, spinning his Qiang around his body as he walked.

“Those eyes…I saw them before…He was watching me at school earlier today…”

Donatello said nothing else. He stepped forward, shielding April with his body.

“Who are you and what do you want?” the Bo wielder asked, voice low and threatening. The addressed turtle before him shot Don a grin and stopped a few feet ahead.

“…And the lone warrior, his cracked broadsword held in his right hand and tattered shield adorning the other, stood tall against the oncoming beast of destruction, his form stalwart and proud, his face a stony mask of bravery and courage unrivalled. And yet, it was but a front, a front only he himself knew, a false face of bravado desperately conjured in a futile attempt to reserve what was left of his deteriorating sanity and preventing it from being swallowed whole by the gnawing, rapidly extending claws and fangs of the abyss within, from which his darkest, most well-hidden fears were trying to break free. And his eyes…Oh his raging eyes – radiant red not so unlike the vicious torrent of blood in which he had so barbarically bathed the lesser demons and himself only minutes past - they were narrowed, menacing, and so very clear of his own predetermined destiny. Burning in those intense orbs a conviction to vanquish the beast with everything that he was to embody, embrace and represent, along with his own blood oath to uproot the last existing incarnation of evil obstructing his path toward the pious salvation of his beloved kingdom and countrymen…”

The other turtle narrated, his voice suave and silky, and as he spoke, his eyes were shut, lids fluttering as if he wholly believed what he spoke of to be true, and that by doing so, the theatrics would be made more apparent to the listeners. His hands swung around in a controlled series of motions, immersing himself in his own tale of good and evil.

Donatello and April remained still and wary, not making any move even though the opponent was within range. Instead, they opted to study him further, for they knew, just from his aura alone, this opponent was not one to be underestimated.

Finishing his narrative and looking at the two before him, the black-masked turtle then stabbed the dull end of his Qiang on the ground and spoke again, a smirk adorning his features.

“What do you think?” he asked, “That’s part of the prologue for a fantasy story I’m currently working on. Any thoughts or pointers or constructive criticism would be most helpful at this early developmental stage, especially those coming from one with a brain that can rival my own.”

“…Who are you?” Donnie asked again, his fingers wrapping more tightly around his staff. His muscles became noticeably tenser.

“Hmm, didn’t anyone ever tell you it is rude to ask for the name of another while your own has yet to be given. What poor manners I say, your guardian must be very disappointed in you, and in himself for his failure to bring you up properly,” the spear-handling turtle responded, immensely enjoying the way an angry snarl made its way to Donatello’s face. His acute hearing also picked up faint rumbling growls bubbling inside the purple-wearing ninja’s throat.

“Donnie,” April whispered harshly, and the growling subsided, “He’s trying to rile you up. Don’t let him.”

“I know, April,” Donatello answered, face grim, “I know his intention.”

And then, neither said anything for a while, allowing a moment of silence to fall between them, brown and crimson eyes locked as both tacticians worked out an optimal courses of action to approach the battle ahead.

Behind April and Donnie, the battles scattered around the empty area continued to rage on. Leo’s skirmish with his darker counterpart had yet to settle, and both turtles were still utilizing everything they had in an attempt to outperform the other.

At the same time, Mikey and Casey, having found a discarded crowbar lying uselessly around and taking it up as his weapon of opportunity, continued to push back the pale turtle they were facing. With Mikey’s skills with the nunchucks and Casey’s efficiency with turning virtually anything he could get his hands on into projectiles, they were enjoying moderate success in pushing the wielder of the tri-sectioned staff, forcing the latter to go on the defensive at last.

“Man!” exclaimed the black-clad turtle with a smile despite his current predicament, “You’re mad! Real mad, brother!”

“Thanks, it’s my infamous Hot Nunchuck Fury! Booyakasha!” Mikey exclaimed as he continued to keep the pressure on his assigned opponent, who seemed to enjoy the fight more and more as the seconds passed. When Michelangelo swung one of his weapon forward, the turtle in black swiftly performed the same lock he had done earlier on Casey, trapping Mikey’s nunhuck in place. Then, with a sudden headbutt, he forced the unsuspecting Mikey back, causing the orange-wearing ninja to drop one of his weapons.

With a gleeful smile, the user of the tri-sectioned staff kicked the fallen chuck away before he looked at Mikey, his eyes shining with excitement and something else – something skin to bloodlust.

“But I’m warning ya, bro. I’m not exactly the sanest guy in the mental department you’ll ever meet. In fact, my senses are tingling now, annoyingly, and they are telling me that I'm in the right mood to cave some skulls in. So watch out!”

Wasting not a single word after that, he lunged for Mikey again, picking up where they left off.    

Meanwhile, Raph’s own struggle with the tonfa-wielding turtle was far from over. The two quickly proved to be the powerhouses of their respective team, and they seemed to share the same preference for brutality done by hands and feet instead of by weapons. But when they relied on their weapons, the two battling turtles proved deadly with them, and their skills rivaled one another almost to the point of perfection. Every stab Raphael made, the other parried, and vice versa. Tonfas and sais clashed against one another, followed by kicks and headbutts.

“You’re good,” Raph said, somewhat excited as he circled his opponent, trying to look for an opening to capitalize. “But I haven’t shown you everything yet.”

“Neither have I,” the other turtle discarded his cloak, revealing his muscular frame and pale complexion hidden underneath. Spinning his tonfas threateningly, the black-masked warrior then let out a feral war cry and dashed forward once more. The battle resumed.

The last of the black masks – the Qiang wielder – stood still from where he was and silently studied the scenes playing out before his eyes, a calculating look forming on his visage.

“Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves so much, and we’re here standing around forlornly like a trio of completely clueless idiots in the midst of a raging and glorious war, a place most unfitting for viewing pleasures, wouldn't you agree?”

“…You asked me for my opinion on your story,” Donatello said suddenly, earning himself an intrigued look from his counterpart.

“Yes?”

“Too wordy!” Don said simply before he threw one shuriken at the black-clad ninja, which he easily deflected with a spin. After letting out a chuckle of amusement, he, too, at last left his position and engaged Donatello in melee combat. The fight between the two staff masters commenced.

The declaration of war had been cried, and there was absolutely no stopping it any more.     


	15. Shadows

Left Out

Arc 2: Dancing Shadows

Chapter 15: Shadows

Donatello was the first to make a move. He closed the distance between himself and his opponent and swept his staff in a horizontal motion, his strike forceful and prompt. His attack, unsurprisingly to himself, failed to hit as the target took a step backward. With a grin that not so subtly suggested that Donatello’s move had been entirely within his range of anticipation, the black-masked turtle kicked the base of his Qiang up and, grabbing the area near the end of the spear to cover more range, he subsequently unleashed a speedy and lethal stab, aiming the pointy tip of the spear directly at the heart of his counterpart. It pierced the body of Donnie’s Bo staff and halted. The force he had put behind that one singe thrust was immense, enough to force Donatello backward a few steps, but the latter persisted.

The assailant’s free hand then produced a hidden blade from one of the various pouches worn on his belt and, without hesitation, sent it hurling toward his Donatello’s forehead, aiming for the area right between the eyes. If he had been facing a less experienced fighter, the fight would have reached its tragic conclusion then and there; however, Donatello was far from what could be considered average. Utilizing his well-honed reflexes gained through rigorous and endless training sessions with his family, Donatello was able to tilt his head to one side in the nick of time, and thus, he narrowly avoided his counterpart’s invitation of death. A clanking noise behind him suggested that the flying blade was stopped when it impacted another weapon of steel - April’s trusty fan.

 Assuming a serious and intimidating expression reserved for the direst of situations, the purple-wearing ninja swiftly spun his body and kicked his opponent’s temporarily immobile spear away. The maneuver caused the other turtle’s weapon slide off his Bo staff, and at the same time exposed the midsection of the spear wielder for a few seconds. Seizing that precious opportunity, Donatello promptly returned the gesture by executing a thrust of his own, one end of his wooden staff heading toward the Foot assailant’s throat.

Having anticipated such a move beforehand, the turtle in black effortlessly avoided the strike in the exact same manner Donatello had avoided his own, unfazed still at the speed of execution and the strength behind his opponent’s move. His devilish and confident remained glued to his facial features as his eyes bore into his counterpart’s narrowed ones, silently antagonizing him. His mouth moved, as if ready to produce taunts to his enemy, but what happened afterward effectively mandated his words to die down inside of his throat long before any utterances could be made.

A click of a button reached the black-clad turtle’s hearing, and that foreign noise was instantaneously succeeded by the swooshing sound of metal blade unsheathing and shredding the air close to his neck, dangerously so. The dim beams of luminosity emitted from one of the flickering street lights nearby attacked his peripheral vision of his widened eyes, reflected when they made contact with the hidden blade now protruding from Donatello’s Bo staff.

The newly converted naginata was moved once more, this time swept in a sidelong movement. Its dull edge headed straight for the back-masked warrior’s neck exposed. While an impact created by its blunt blade would not be enough to end him, the Foot assailant knew it would definitely be able to incapacitate him if it struck.

Upon realizing the imminent danger he was being presented with, the black-clad turtle wasted not even a single second to devise and implement an appropriate counteraction. His back arched; simultaneously, his knees bent, lowering his entire frame backward as a result. Donatello’s blade sliced through the air, generating a fearsome sound as it slashed through the vacated space where the other turtle’s head had been only a split second ago. Death had just sent a second invitation, and it, much like its predecessor, was fortunately lost to the designated recipient.  

With a series of swift and precise motions, the spear-wielder placed his free hand on the ground behind him moments before his shell made contact with the earth and, skillfully, performed a one-handed roll backward, creating a moderately safe distance between himself and his adversary. He mentally planned his next moves; however, his private musing did not prevent him from eliciting snide remarks at his opponent’s expense.

“And with a mighty thrust, the warrior drove his sword at the beastly abomination’s body, aiming to pierce through its infernal flesh with his holy weapon and finishing the hellish struggle. Unfortunately, his battle was not meant to reach its conclusion then, and with a mighty roar, the spawn of evil knocked him backward, thus dragging the fight on…” he said with a grin. “Hmm, not too shabby. I must admit those are lovely materials for me to work with, and I suppose I have you to thank for it, _Donnie_.” The name of his counterpart was spoken in a mocking, high-pitched tone, mimicking April’s when she had addressed her friend earlier.  

“Has anyone ever told you how you ramble too much?” Don asked, maintaining his calm and focused expression and stance, Bo staff positioned forward. The blade had already been retracted, returned inside the wooden weapon’s length and silently waiting for another opportunity to make its appearance later on.

“I’m sorry, is the pot asking the kettle?” the pale turtle talked back, chuckling in amusement before he added, “Seriously though, must you presume that I look like the type of individual who would actually pay half a mind to what others, whose opinions are but meaningless and aggravating buzzes in the ears, have to comment?” the turtle in black carried on, spinning and exchanging his spear between both hands in a playful manner. Yet, both Donatello and April kept their guards up, eyeing those deliberate movements with wariness. “Oh no, I tune out most of the senseless yapping of those whom I consider to be the intellectually inferior lifeforms and simply pay attention to those whose opinions truly hold gravity to me - myself being the prime example, and by extension, you – an honor that not many are entitled to.”

“Wow…You should hold a seminar on humility, since you seem to be quite a modest guy,” Donnie said, sardonic, “But that aside, who are you people and why did you and your gang attack April and Casey? What does the Foot want with them?” Don interrogated, but the fierceness of his voice went lost on his opponent, whose face was a perfect representation of indifference.

The black-masked fighter stopped spinning his weapon abruptly and planted its blunt end on the ground, his face now an exaggerated look of musing and deliberation.

“Regarding the _why_ , I’m afraid it’s classified information which I have no right or clearance to divulge, especially with the enemies of my…master,” he said, “As for the _who_ …Well, I suppose nobody ever said anything about it being confidential, so I suppose it does not hurt much to disclose that specific piece of info, and perhaps an introduction is already overdue.”

He paused briefly to gather his breath.

“Allow me to introduce myself and my kin. I was given the name Doppler by my creator, so you may refer to me as such. And I am quite certain you and your allies have all made acquaintances with my kin over there.”

His eyes trailed to the various fights taking place on the empty street before they were directed back at his Donatello and April.

“The turtle dancing with the Chinese swords over there is called Leonhard. He’s quite a character, I must say. Next, we have the ever energetic turtle with the runny mouth and the three sectional staff, who is currently trying to bash the grey matters straight out of your friends’ heads over there. He is known as Maxwell. He’s a bit of a whiny and self-centered brat, quite a handful to look after, and if he doesn’t get to play, well, let’s just say nothing good will ever come of that. And last but certainly not least, you have met the silent strongman of our _gang_ , as you so kindly and _appositely_ referred to us as, he's referred to as Riemann. Words of advice, though, he may seem tamed and quiet, but do not try to draw his bad side out of the abyss in which it is hiding, sleeping. Once unleashed, he just may eviscerate you and then incinerate what’s left. The guy has proven himself to be a walking volcano, ready to erupt at any given time, and I would hate to get caught in the path of that savage brute when that happens.”    

As he spoke, both Donatello and April remained still and listened, all the while eyeing him with great precaution and watchfulness for every little movement he made. The black-masked warrior of the Foot, they had ascertained, was one with a penchant for embellished theatrics and dramatics based on his lengthy mannerism and speech patterns, but other than that, not much else could be discerned. Instinctively, Donatello got closer to April, almost making her disappear from view behind his taller frame.

“Whatever you want with April, I’m not going to let you,” said the Bo user resolutely, “ _We_ aren’t going to let you.”

“I had a sinking feeling you were going to say that,” replied Doppler, his grin widening, his two fangs bared menacingly. In a singsong voice, he began to chant, punctuating each twirl of his spear to a verse he was about to make, “One, two, three, four. Oh I’m getting really bored. Five, six, seven, eight. Now you’ll be… _decapitated_!”

As soon as the last syllables left his mouth, Doppler instantly attempted to make good of his threat and dashed toward his counterpart, who had been steeling himself for this strike. Donnie, unhesitant, moved forward and faced his opponent head-on. Bo and Qiang clashed once more. Doppler, moving with even more deftness and dexterity than previously displayed, quickly proved himself to be extremely lethal with his well-aimed and well-timed thrusts. Luckily, Donatello’s skills with his signature weapon were not to be taken lightly, either. Using his well-honed instincts and calm judgment, Donatello successfully deflected most of the opponent’s stabs and avoided the rest. His feats, however, were not performed without difficulties.

The two turtles went on with their battle, neither giving an opening for the other to exploit. From where April stood, amazed, all she could see with her eyes were blurs of white and brown encircling the two turtles as they continued their private war dance.

Deciding that it was high time he took the initiative and went on the offensive, Donatello, still doing his best to evade the torrent of stabs made by his enemy, watched Doppler’s movements even more critically than before, thoroughly analyzing any unique patterns he could pick up and bidding for his time. Soon, the opportunity at last presented itself when Doppler executed another lightning-quick stab aimed directly at Donnie’s abdominal section. Donatello was quick to capitalize the chance.

The Bo practitioner narrowly avoided his demise by impalement with a well-timed sidestep to his right. Then, before Doppler could recall his spear, Donatello reached one hand forward and promptly grabbed the body, successfully keeping the weapon tightly where it was and disabling Doppler to retract it.

Doppler’s face remained neutral at the turns of events. Donatello’s face, on the other hand, donned a sly expression, complete with his toothy grin. In a confident voice, the Bo master exclaimed clearly.

“You’re mine now!”

Immediately, Doppler let out a stifled grunt as he felt a sharp pain radiating from his left shoulder, where the end of Donnie’s Bo staff made contact with his exposed flesh. The impact forced the black-masked fighter to take a few involuntary steps backward. At the same time, his other hand let go of his weapon. Now disarmed, Doppler stood still and watched, his crimson narrowed eyes displaying something akin to irritation, as Donatello twirled and tossed his confiscated Qiang backward to April.

“Your weapon is lost,” Donatello said, serious and alerted still, “Surrender.”

Doppler said nothing in response. The pale-skinned terrapin stood where he was in a veil of complete and eerie silence, his demonic eyes glancing between Donatello and April far away. His mind was racing with numerous calculations and scenarios that could take place, but none of them, he knew this for a fact, worked in his favor or produced a desirable outcome. Donatello had managed to achieve complete control over the current situation. With those thoughts in mind, Doppler smiled again and decided to go with the best course of action presented to him.  

“Alright then,” he began softly, a devious smile plastered upon his face as he spoke, his demeanor calm and unconcerned despite the predicament he had been put in. Slowly, both of his empty hands moved to the back of his head in a surrendering post. “You got me. Kudos.”

Unbeknownst to Donatello’s prying and watchful gaze, Doppler secretly pressed a button on the bracelet-like accessory he wore around his wrist the moment it was hidden behind his head. The button began to beep softly, emitting a high frequency inaudible to the naked ears.

Scattered around the darkened street and empty alleyways, the same devices worn by the other black-masked turtles began to resonate with Doppler’s, their surfaces glowing red, alerting the owners to their foremost strategist’s intention.

Riemann saw the distress signal and narrowed his eyes, the corners of his lips curving downward disapprovingly.

“Tch, that annoying bastard…” Riemann clicked his tongue and mumbled to himself in unconcealed exasperation with his cue, but he still acknowledged his order. “Making me forfeit a brawl like this…” he added as he watched Raphael lunge toward him.

After deftly avoiding a kick from the sais wielder, Riemann retaliated with one of his own and delivered a powerful knee strike into his opponent. The attack landed, its damage critical. The armored knee of the black-masked terrapin sank deeply into a wide-eyed Raph’s stomach, forcing the air out of the latter’s lungs and subsequently sending him flying straight into an open garbage can in the dark alley nearby. The lid snapped shut as Raph went in.

Having bought himself some time, Riemann began to make his move straight away. He swiftly abandoned his post and made a mad dash for Doppler’s position. Donatello and April, seeing the approaching menace behind them, readied themselves for a potential brawl. Donatello swung his staff, but his strike was easily parried. April joined in, throwing her Tessen at the bulky strongman. Her attack achieved the same result as Donnie’s, and with a simple swat of his arm, Riemann deflected the fan back to her effortlessly. Donatello moved back, guarding April once more. To their bewilderment, however, Riemann ignored them and instead made his way to Doppler’s side.  

Shortly afterward, Leonhard and Maxwell arrived as well, the former wearing a disproving scowl much like Riemann’s while the latter appearing unconcerned, grinning like a maniac.

“Apologies, gentlemen and lady,” Doppler began, “We had a rough morning today, so I am afraid we are currently incapable of performing at our best. So it is with much regret that we have to cut this wonderful meeting short. But rest assured that our paths will cross again in the future.”

“You’re not getting away that easily!” Raphael, having reached Donatello’s position alongside Casey Michelangelo and Leonardo shortly after Leonhard and Maxwell had joined their partners, shouted out indignantly, his face set in a scowl of heated anger.

“Rye, some smoke please,” said Doppler. Before Raphael could lunge forward, Riemann flipped two lids on the handles of his tonfas, revealing two small buttons on top. His fingers applied pressure on them. In an instant, two enormous columns of flames shot out from his twin weapons, quickly spreading and setting the entire area around the four black-clad turtles ablaze. Raphael halted his advance at once and glared at his counterpart on the other side of the fiery barricade.

“As the wisdom that was so astutely conceived and written down in the Thirty-Six Stratagems says, ‘If all else fail, retreat’,” Doppler spoke up and turned away, “And retreat for now we shall. Until next time, _brothers_ dearest.”

Doppler then took out a small glass bottle containing an unknown liquid and tossed it at the searing flames. The infernal wall of flames grew exponentially higher upon being fed the substance and continued to spread out rapidly. They made contact with the trash bags on the side of the street soon afterward, incinerating the highly flammable objects. At some point during the midst of confusion and distraction, all four black-masked terrapins had made their escape, stealthy and soundless as the shadows, completely gone from sight in a blink of an eye.

“Come on, guys,” Leo sheathed his swords and addressed everyone, a note of authority and urgency lacing his tone. “We need to erase all evidence of our presence here and get belowground before the police arrive.”

“But what about the fire?” Casey asked frantically, eyes wide as they saw the flaming tentacles spreading fast, engulfing everything they came into contact with and setting alight everything they came into contact with.

“I’ve already contacted the fire department,” Donnie said, putting his T-phone away inside his belt, “Leave it to them to handle this fire. We need to disappear now before anyone sees us.”

Reluctantly, Casey and April nodded in consensus. And with haste, everyone swiftly erased any evidence of their involvement and the battle that had just taken place. Casey, with much regret and reluctance, deposed of his bike as well, surrendering it to the merciless flames, in order to avoid having things traced back to him and raising unnecessary suspicions among the citizens and authorities.

Locating the nearest manhole in the area from which they had emerged, the turtles along with their two teenage allies made their escape underground. Mere seconds before the lid was tightly shut once more, everyone could faintly make out the distinct sounds of piercing sirens approaching the now vacated area, now partially drenched in a red sea of infernal conflagration.           


	16. Move

Left Out

Arc 2: Dancing Shadows

Chapter 16: Move

Underneath the complex maze-like sewer system of New York City, the four turtles along with their human allies continued to run. They swiftly and accurately navigated through the turns and headed back to their home.

“Dudes!” Michelangelo said as he ran ahead alongside Leo, “What were those guys? They were like us, only paler, and not as handsome!”

“No Mikey, they are not like us,” Raph shot back almost immediately, a scowl of anger dominating his facial expression. “You don’t see me sporting two mini flamethrowers and setting an entire block ablaze now, do you! I know I’ve got a hot temper but I sure ain’t no domestic terrorist.”

“I have to agree with Raph, Mikey. They may look like us, but they are nothing like us. They’re complete maniacs that are after April for some reason, and for that, they need to be stopped,” Donatello said this time, intently studying the Chinese spear he had previously confiscated from his opponent. While its appearance suggested that it was relatively normal weapon, closer inspection revealed that there was a small hidden switch located near the metal blade.

Halting to a stop, Donatello studied the weapon carefully. The others did so as well, curious as to why their brother in purple had desisted.

“What’s wrong, Donnie?” asked Leo.

“This weapon is unusual…” Donatello replied, taking a few steps back to put a safe distance between himself and the others. “It looks like an ordinary Qiang, but there’s something here…Let’s see.”

The curious ninja pressed the switch experimentally. To the naked, untrained eyes, nothing seemed to happen, and Raph just scoffed.

“Come on Donnie,” he whined impatiently, “It’s just one little spear. There’s nothing strange about it.”

Donatello, however, was less than convinced. If there was one thing he knew more than anything else, it was how his own mind ticked, and since his latest opponent was, as the pale-skinned turtle had admitted himself, an extension of him, there was a purpose for the switch. Every tiny thing had its purpose, and that switch was no different.

Donatello turned off the switch and picked up a small rectangular piece of metal lying around. He then grazed the blade against the metal’s surface to test its sharpness. Marks emerged, but it was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Yeah, it’s normal, Donnie,” April said, placing one hand on the genius’s shoulder. “Now come on, we need to go before…”

Her sentence was cut short when Donatello flipped the switch again and this time, he tried again. Slowly, Donatello pointed the metal blade at the piece of metal and gently slid it along its surface. Everyone’s eyes widened visibly as the blade sliced the metal piece in half, almost effortlessly, and all Donatello was doing was gently sliding the weapon along, no force applied.

“What the heck?” Raph exclaimed, stunned. “How is that blade…”

“It’s an ultrasonic cutting tool, Raph,” Donatello switched the spear off and studied the tip. “It appears that this spear has been modified and its blade can vibrate at a very high frequency, allowing it to cut through materials like a sharpened knife through butter. It’s dangerous.”

“Whoa, we have one maniac with two mini flamethrowers, and now this?” asked Mikey, incredulous. “Dudes, their weapons are awesome. How come we have nothing like those Donnie?”

“Because they can kill, Michelangelo,” Leo spoke up, his voice stern and eyes cold. Mikey, hearing that tone, immediately stopped laughing and grew silent. “These weapons are designed specifically to kill, not incapacitate like ours. It only proves that the enemies are lethal, more so than most fighters of Shredder’s group.”

“Great,” Raph muttered, “Just freaking great! We have a scorpion that can kill with a sting, and now these four turtles. Is there anything else?” the turtle in red swung his hands wildly to express his frustration. “Argh, things are getting crazier and crazier around here.”

“In any case,” April began, trying to calm everyone down and loosen the tension a little. “We need to get back to the lair and get some rest first. It’s been a long day, and whether I like it or not, I still have to tutor Casey on chemistry, again.”

“Aw come on, Red,” said the hockey vigilante playfully, “It’s not that bad. ‘sides, not everyone can land a private study session with the Casey Jones.” He added, pointing at himself proudly and smugly, causing everyone’s eyeballs to roll in exasperation.

“Yeah, right,” said Raph, sarcastic, “April’s right, though. We need to get back and warn master Splinter about this.”

Leo, Raph and Mikey then resumed their retreat to the lair, followed closely by Casey. April was about to join them, but her eyes caught the immobile form of Donatello standing forlornly where he had been, his face a mask of concentration and thoughtfulness. His brown eyes were fixed on the modified weapon in his hand, cold and narrowed.

“Donnie?” April asked as a wave of concern washed over her body. She could sense something was not alright with her purple-clad friend, but even with her power, she could not fully decipher what she was experiencing. “Is everything alright?”

Donatello’s eyes lingered on the blade for a while longer before he lowered the spear. Promptly ignoring April’s gaze on him, Donatello smiled and followed the others with the girl.

Upon arriving home, April and Donnie saw everyone in the living room, waiting for them.

“What happened, slowpokes?” asked Raph with a small hint of irritation in his voice, “Enjoying some quality time with each other where nobody could see?” he added, but unlike the playful and mocking tone he had employed to tease Donnie a few months ago, this one was rougher, a fact that was not lost on either April or Casey.

“Yo man, chill,” Casey said, “What’s with the anger issue? I thought you have become mellower after getting our city back.”

Raphael grunted and rudely turned his attention back on the book in his hands. But even without looking, everyone could tell the scowl was still apparent on his face.

“Come on, Raph,” Leo spoke up, smiling half in understanding and half in amusement. “Donnie and April are back already. Now come on, we need to talk with sensei about our latest enemies.”

Everyone headed inside the dojo. As usual, the ninja master was meditating underneath the tree, his face and body relaxed. However, at the first sound of feet paddling on the tatami mat, his ears twitched, and he spoke without opening his eyes.

“What is the problem, my sons and students?” Master Splinter asked, voice as calm and sagely as ever. The teenagers kneeled respectfully before their teacher before Leonardo answered.

“Sensei, I’m sorry to cut your meditation session short, but…”

“Please, Leonardo. No need for formalities this time. I can sense it in all of you – tension, worry and… _fear_ ,” the rat mutant’s ridge drew together, and he paused for a brief moment. His eyes opened to survey the ones kneeling before him, but his gaze was far more scrutinizing when it landed on a particular turtle with a spear lying by his side. Something was definitely amiss, he could tell, and the foreign weapon was not its cause.

“Sensei?” Leo asked, leaning forward a bit at the sight of his father’s inactivity and unusual silence. “Is everything okay with you?”

Seeing the worried looks the students were showing him, Master Splinter coughed and resumed his speech. “I am fine, Leonardo. Now, tell me what is troubling you.”

“The Foot is growing in number and strength, sensei. Last night, we faced one new mutant, this time, we faced four, and all of them were dangerous.”

“Yeah, sensei, they’re like Tiger-Claw-dangerous, not Fishface-dangerous,” Mikey chimed in before a hand hitting the back of his head silenced him. The turtle in orange glared at Raph and stuck his tongue out childishly. The older brother in red, on the other hand, shook his head and ignored the youngest terrapin’s antics.

“They were turtles, sensei,” Raph followed up on Leo’s report. Immediately, Splinter’s eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing. “All four of them, and they looked exactly like us except for the masks and the skin.”

“Yes, I think the Foot must have gotten their hands on our DNA samples and successfully created genetic clones of us using the mutagen in their possession. And now, we have four crazy psychopathic versions of ourselves on the loose,” Donnie provided his own input as well. “They are menaces to us, and to society as a whole.”

“Honestly! Those creeps just burned down an entire block just to make an escape,” said Casey this time. “And they also cost me a bike and a hockey stick. Stuff are expensive nowadays!”

“I see…It appears a new storm is upon us. The enemy is on the move, bent on destroying our family and threatening our existences. We must be alert now more than ever, and that includes you as well, Casey and April. The Foot is an intricate covert organization, with numerous contacts in the light of the public and the shadows of secrecy as well. Except for your family members and us, beware of anyone you make contact with.”

Suddenly, a loud gasp escaped April, and in an instant, everyone’s eyes were on her.

“What’s wrong?” asked Casey, worried.

“I forgot to phone my dad. Oh no, he must be worried sick by now.”

“Then please April, notify him of your safety, and if possible, ask him if he would let you spend your night here with us,” Master Splinter said. While his voice was gentle and he had made it sound like a request, everyone could hear the decisiveness of his undertone – a command.

With a nod of acknowledgement, April went out and dialed her father while the others remained behind.

“I think it would be best if you were to call and notify your family as well, Casey,” Master Splinter said, his eyes trained on the only human boy in the room. “You are unarmed, and as soon as you get back to the surface, you will be naked, defenseless and vulnerable to the enemies’ attacks.”

Casey’s face fell a bit and his head hang low, the bangs protruding from his headwear shadowing his face and eyes, making him unreadable. However, before any comment could be made regarding his sudden change of mood, the hockey enthusiast lifted his head back up, and once again, his eyes were filled to the brim with the usual stubbornness and mischief they frequently held in surplus.

“Will do, sensei!” he said and reached for his T-phone, but to his horror, it was nowhere to be found. It was then that his memory came back, bringing to mind the image of his phone getting impaled earlier. “Oops…”

“Casey,” Donnie started, slowly and lowly, his eyes narrowed as they pierced through the human boy, “Where. Is. Your. T-Phone?” The human teen could only scratch his head sheepishly and looked away from the mutant family, numerous beads of nervous sweats running down his face.

“Uhm…” he started, fumbling over his own words, “I may have dropped it before the fight against your doppelgangers earlier.”

“What?” Everyone turned to look at Donatello, whose eyes were wide with unadulterated horror at the boy’s sudden admission. Before anyone could ask, Donnie continued, his voice getting even higher in the process.

“Where did you drop it?” the turtle in purple practically yelled straight into his human friend’s face, their faces mere inches apart, much to the latter’s distaste.

“Dude, chills,” Casey scooted backward a bit, feeling uncomfortable with Donnie invading his personal bubble. “It got destroyed, impaled by a knife before the battle began. I bet it was reduced to ashes by that fire already, so no worries.” 

Disregarding what Casey had just told him, Donatello pulled out his own T-phone and began to track the signal. “Alright, if Casey’s phone is dead, there should be six signals, five functional T-phones and one Cheese Phone…” he mumbled to himself as he pulled up the tracking applications he had personally programmed and installed in everyone’s devices. As he worked, the others looked at him expectantly.

The moment the screen flared up, Donnie’s eyes widened again as dread filled them. “All seven signals are working…That means…The tracking program in Casey’s phone is still active, and….”

“Those turtles can learn of our location!” Leonardo exclaimed. “Donnie! Can you shut it down?”

“I’m trying to remotely activate the self-detonation command in Casey’s T-phone, but it’s not working. Something is overriding my command, and I have a stinking feeling who is behind this,” Donnie said, his face grim.

“Well, what about the data?” Mikey asked, hovering over his tallest brother’s shoulder and watching him work. “Can you just wipe everything clean?”

“I’m working on that…” Donnie answered. His attention was spent entirely on the small device he was holding. “Argh…Doppler is blocking me out…Argh!” He growled before lifting his eyes to regard te others. “Mikey, give me your phone.”

The addressed did as told without wasting a single second. Donnie held his brother’s phone on his other hand.

“Alright, creep. If you want to wage a cyber war, you sure choose the wrong turtle to mess with!”

Then, with two hands holding two phones at the same time, Donatello began to simultaneously activate the remote self-destruct command from both of his and Mikey’s devices. His eyes and fingers worked with miraculous precision and dexterity. The two-front cyber assault continued to go on and on for the course of the next ten minutes before it reached its conclusion, the end declared by Donnie’s triumphant cry.

“Yes! Now take this!” Donatello shouted out and pressed on both screens at the same time. After a small beep, the words ‘Signal Terminated’ were displayed on both phones. “And that’s how you do the pincer maneuver. Booyakasha!”

He punched the air with both fists, but it was then that he saw the bewildered and concerned looks that his family and his two human friends were giving him, his triumphant exclamation was cut short, and his smiley face was turned into the opposite version of itself.

Coughing meekly into his fist and appearing like nothing had happened whatsoever, Donatello looked at everyone and said sheepishly, but what came out was more of a question than a statement, “Uhm…The phone’s destroyed?”

Master Splinter was the first to recover, and with a calm soothing voice for which he was well-known, the aged master nodded and congratulated his student on his success.

“It is good news, my son. Well done.”

“Yeah, that’s awesome dude!” Mikey cheered, “You’ve got to teach me how to smash buttons like that now. Imagine how cool it would be to two-player game and you control all two player characters at the same time! That’d be crazy awesome!”

“Eh, sorry Mike, but that’s not even remotely possible, so no,” Donatello said instantly, causing Mikey to turn around and pout, his chubby cheeks puffed up and tinged in a light shade of red in irritation. “Party pooper,” he muttered.  

“Alright, it is quite late already, my sons and students, so how about we get started on dinner and then enjoy the rest of the night in peace?”

“That sounds wonderful, sensei,” came the resounding chorus of cheers, much to the only adult’s amusement. And with that, everyone vacated the dojo. Before he closed the door, Master Splinter shot the forgotten spear on the mat another look before he, too, joined the teenagers in the kitchen.

In his mind, he knew another private talk was in session, but dinner first, he mentally concluded. As to be expected in a household with five fully trained ninja, four of whom were teens, and two very social teenagers, dinner was a rather messy and raucous affair, with plates being constantly exchanged, shouts and jests consecutively flying and struggles for the last bites inevitably erupting, it was a nightmare for the lone adult of the household. However, Master Splinter, despite his stern reprimanding and lecturing on table manners, was secretly happy – delighted even – that he had been blissfully blessed with such wondrous gifts any man could ever ask for, a family that cared for and protected one another through thick and thin.

His gentle and soft eyes gazed around as the teenagers went about the job of cleaning the nightmarish mess that they had made out of their own kitchen before they eventually set on the sight of Donatello scrubbing the spot on the floor where Mikey’s slice of leftover pizza had landed earlier.

“If you want to enjoy the rest of the night, you had better work faster, children,” said the old master, chuckling to himself at the chorus of groans and whines that served as his response. “Donatello, please join me in the dojo if you please. I have something I want to talk to you about.”     

“I…what?” asked the purple-clad turtle as he stopped working to stare at his father. Master Splinter simply nodded before disappearing into the room first, awaiting his arrival.

“Dude, what did you do?” asked Casey and Mikey together.

“I have no idea, really. Most of this mess was all you two, not me…” Donnie replied, torn between confusion and worry. A private audience with Master Splinter could be nerve-wrecking, for no matter what one did, the aged master could see through them. Everything was bare, translucent against the rat’s well-developed sensitivity. With a sigh, Donatello resigned himself to the fact that his master was waiting for him, and so, he put the rag in his hand away and washed up.

“I’ll go see what sensei wants to talk to me about.”

“Sure thing,” said April, offering her taller friend a small smile, “And…Would you mind if I borrowed your lab for the night? Casey and I need to get down and dirty with chemistry after we finish things on this side.”      

Donnie thought for a while to see if there was an urgent need to use the laboratory for the night. One he had finished searching his memory for any incomplete projects or experiments and finding nothing urgent, he nodded and smiled kindly at the girl.                

“Knock yourselves out. But please, do not touch anything, especially my chemistry equipment and the chemicals. Some of them may seriously hurt you.”

“We won’t Donnie-boy,” reassured Casey with a smile – one that had never once before reassured Donatello of anything at all. However, he made no comment and instead left for the dojo.

Entering, he already saw his father figure standing in the middle of the room and, to his surprise and horror, holding Doppler’s spear in one hand. His experienced eyes were looking over the craftsmanship with great meticulousness, and every few seconds, he would hum and stroke his beard with the free appendage.

“Please join me, my son,” he beckoned for his second youngest son to come over. Donatello did as told and kneeled down before his sensei. Patiently, he waited for his father to speak. Splinter, on the other hand, continued to study the weapon in his hand for a while longer before he sat down and placed it next to him.

“Donatello,” he began, voice low and face serious, “I can sense a great turmoil raging inside you, my son.”

“Excuse me?” the turtle asked, not understanding.

“Ever since you came back, your mind has been…elsewhere, distracted, and from watching you, I could tell. Though you have tried your best to act natural, I could still spot the subtle signs of lingering anxiety from your behavior. Did something happen during your skirmish with your doppelgangers topside that had left you shaken so?”

Donatello gulped and looked down at his lab, his fists trembled under the intense gaze of his father. He had dreaded but so valiantly hoped that his master would not notice his emotions. Unfortunately, he was found out.

Knowing that he could not get out of this, Donatello sighed and nodded. “Yes, sensei,” he said quietly before taking out his Bo staff and placing the weapon before him. Master Splinter studied the wooden staff and immediately spotted a horizontal mark at the center. The rat, however, decided to refrain from making any comment yet, at least not until he had heard the full story.

“Please tell me what happened, Donatello.”

“I tried to protect April from my counterpart, Doppler. And at the beginning of out fight, he tried to stab me in the heart, but I stopped the strike with my Bo, resulting in this mark,” Donatello said, pointing at the graze on his Bo. “We continued fighting each other until at last I disarmed him and they retreated. However, after we escaped to the sewers and I took some time to study the spear he used, I realized something…unsettling.”

“And what is that?” the aged master asked, careful and calm. Donatello remained silent for a while, and during that time, he was vehement in avoiding meeting the eyes of his father and instead focused on his lap.

“Donatello?” Master Splinter, at the sight of his son’s stubbornness, coaxed again.

“I think…No, I _know_ that Doppler…my copy could have killed me with that first strike, but for some reason, he let me live on purpose.”

“And what makes you say that?” asked the old master, his eyes shut.

“That spear is modified, sensei. There’s a small switch. Once flipped, the blade will vibrate at a very high frequency, allowing it to cut through metal with ease. If he had turned on the switch beforehand, and I know he had had plenty of chance to do so but for some reason didn’t, that first stab would have…would have breached my defense and…killed me instantly. I could have died…but I only live because I was… _allowed_ to live by the enemy…I stared at death straight in the face, and his scythe was already around my neck…and I didn’t even realize…”

At that point, Donatello grew silent completely and lowered his head even more. Master Splinter stayed still, unmoving, his breathing even and measured. Neither father nor son made a single sound, and they would remain stationary where they were for a long, long time.

…

Meanwhile, inside Stockman’s secret chamber located deep underground, the fly mutant along with his two were being attended by the two of the four black-clad turtles - Maxwell and Riemann.

“Well, where is the DNA of April O’Neil?” Stockman asked, raising his voice in an attempt to sound intimidating. His effort was, obviously, not at all effective, for the three turtles before him seemed bored, especially Maxwell, who was not afraid to show it by shooting his creator a large yawn.

“As you can see for yourself, dear creator, it is not here _yet_ ,” Riemann replied nonchalantly, showing his empty hands to further emphasize his point.  

“Hey man, isn’t there supposed to be four of ‘em,” asked Zeck, “Where’s the one with them swords and that creepy one with the spear?”

“They had better not be loitering in my collection and trying to steal my Excalibur and Lance of Destiny,” Steranko exclaimed, punching his knuckles together threateningly. The two turtles, unfortunately, were not impressed with him, either.

“They’re out, dudes, some kind of secret mission for Doppler to play mad scientist with,” replied Maxwell, lying flat on his shell, much to the mutant hybrids’ distaste.

“What kind of mission?” asked Stockman again, his faces inches away from Riemann’s. As he spoke, a foul stench was released from his mouth, but Riemann seemed unaffected.

“Retrieving April O’Neil’s DNA as you requested,” The bulky turtle said calmly. “They should be here any seconds now.”

“That’s right, man, so keep your pants on and chill,” Maxwell added dismissively, further aggravating the already annoyed scientist.

“You will speak to me with respect, or there will be dire consequences to pay, got it?” The fly threatened, his mutated hand hovering above a small device dangerously. “You do not want a repeat of your punishment, now do you, _pets_?”

At that moment, the gate opened, revealing the remaining members of the cloned warriors. Doppler walked ahead while Leonhard treaded behind, a bodybag hauled on his shoulder.  

“Here are the DNA samples you requested, doctor,” Doppler and immediately, his partner tossed the bag on the ground.

“What is this?” Stockman asked as he leaned down and pulled the zipper down. He immediately gasped in shock when he saw a man inside, tightly bound and gagged and unconscious. “What is this?” Stockman repeated. Steranko and Zeck approached the scientist and saw what the turtles had brought back.

“Kirby O’Neil,” Leonhard answered, “The biological father of April O’Neil. We broke into her school and took a look at her records. After finding out the address, it was just a simple game of hide and seek and knockout gas.”

“What?” Stockman cried, chagrined, “You fools, I told you only the DNA samples of April O’Neil can be used to synthesize the cure. This man is useless to me.”

Doppler coughed into his palm, effectively capturing the fly’s attention. He then began, “It is rather difficult to obtain a reliable DNA sample from the girl directly with the turtles hovering around her. If you want to spend much of your time on trying to find DNA from her toothbrush and, if successful hypothetically speaking, spend a huge amount of money on procuring the equipment to clone that sample, please, be my guest.”

Nobody said anything to challenge that point.

“Have you ever gone fishing, doctor?” asked Doppler offhandedly as he resumed his speech. “To catch fish, you need bait, and the bigger the fish you want to catch, the bigger the bait you need.”

“Hmm, I like the way this one thinks,” said Zeck with a snort, “Devious and practical!”

“I am humbled by your praises, my master,” Doppler replied with a courteous bow. “Now, all we have to do is to wait until the fish catches wind of the bait and gets hooked. And then, we’ll simply reel it in.”

Stockman contemplated for a bit before he looked at Doppler.

“I don’t particularly like your roundabout approach, but fine,” he began, “As long as I get my hands on the girl’s DNA. Zeck, help me bring this man to his cell. You four are dismissed for the night. Get planning. Tomorrow’s night, we’ll lure the turtles out and catch that O’Neil girl.”

“Acknowledged,” said all four clones simultaneously, bowing their heads respectfully until the three former humans were out of sight and earshot. The sounds of the mechanical door being locked tightly from the outside were then heard. Only then did the turtles stand up straight again.

“Man, this stinks!” Maxwell shouted loudly and sat down on the ground again. “And I’m not talking about that maggot-filled insect, either. Just born into this life and already forced to be slaves.”

“Patience, Maxie,” Doppler said, a grin breaking out on his scheming face, “As the Law of Physics dictates, ‘For every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction,’ the law of life also holds that to be true. We already have oppression – a part of that equation. Thus, its counterpart – revolution - is not very far behind…When the time is ripe, we will show Stockman who really runs the show.”  

“By the way,” Riemann asked, “How was your mission to locate the hideout of the originals?”

“Hmm, my DNA donator is much more perceptive and dangerous than I have initially anticipated. He found out what I was doing and stopped my attempt before I could even get the tracking function of that phone to work again. The retrieved phone was destroyed completely, detonated from afar.”

“Man, you know how hard it was for me to get that while fighting off against two opponents?” Maxwell whined, but the smirk on his face implied otherwise.

“It’s alright, though. If the game’s too easy, where’s the fun in playing?  After all, two can play at this game, and my move has already been made. I shall now eagerly await his comeback this time. Oh, I can almost envision it. This will be a grand game to remember before the eventual and inevitable cry of checkmate can be exclaimed.”

A chilling and hysteric bout of laughter could then be heard inside the secret chamber before it was subsequently joined by three similarly malevolent others, resounding and echoing hauntingly throughout the enclosed chamber.  


	17. Practice

Left Out

Arc 2: Dancing Shadows

Chapter 17: Practice

Within the stillness and almost unnerving tension of the dojo, Master Splinter and Donatello remained seated where they respectively were, and neither of them made any move to shatter the thick veil of looming silence hanging over the entire room. Only the sounds of the old master’s meditative breathing, the constant and measured intake and release of breath, could be heard – faint and soft against the thick tranquility.

Donatello, too, did not make any sound. His mind was still stuck on replay at what had transpired just a few hours ago, and how powerless he was feeling toward a victory that had been given away by his own counterpart as a freebie and a warning.

All of the sudden, Master Splinter’s brown eyes opened, and intently, he studied the lone student kneeling forlornly before him, an unreadable and mysterious expression on his face.

Then, with his soft yet stern voice, the former human dispelled the silence.

“Donatello,” he began, and the addressed son looked up dutifully. Master Splinter said nothing else, and instead, he wrapped his fingers around Doppler’s spear and got up to full height, much to Donatello’s bewilderment.

“Sensei?” he asked curiously but stayed kneeled.

“I know it is a bit late, but would you join me in a private practice session for a little while, my son?” the master asked, twirling the spear he was holding with expert movements, mesmerizing grace and precision honed through years upon years of mastery clearly displayed in every spin.

Seeing his son’s inactivity, he continued, “I know you have just eaten, but after all the cleaning you have been subjected to, I would say your body would not feel sick for some light exertion at the moment. So then, my son, what say you?”

Donatello thought for a while, eying the spinning spear carefully and warily – a fact that was not lost on the current wielder of the arm. Much as he wished to join the others for some much-needed relaxation and rest, he knew it would be rude to deny his father despite the fact that he was entitled such an option. Thus, with a small nod, Donatello picked up his Bo and entered his stance.

“Hi, sensei,” he replied, voice firm and serious.

“Thank you, my son. But before that, may I see your Bo staff for a while?” asked Master Splinter, and Donatello did as requested, for he saw no harm in having his opponent have a weapon inspection before a spar. The purple-banded turtle approached his master and, with two hands, respectfully bowed and presented the rat his wooden weapon, which the latter accepted.

“Hold this for me,” the rat then placed the spear in Donatello’s hands, which he hesitantly accepted. His fingers were positioned as far away from the switch as possible.

Wordlessly, the ninja master stepped back and began to perform a few warm-up routines with Donatello’s Bo, testing its condition to see if it was still fit for the upcoming practice. After a few minutes had come to pass, the master was satisfied, and with movements strong and stern.

“Let us begin, Donatello,” said the master as he pointed the end of Donatello’s Bo staff against its true wielder. The turtle was, as to be expected, shocked.

“But sensei, does that mean I have to fight with…this?” he spoke meekly, a hint of fear lacing his voice as his eyes travelled to the menacing Qiang in his grasp. Involuntarily, he gulped and unconsciously moved the spear away from his being.

“Yes,” Master Splinter replied, unfazed, “’If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.’ In order for you to learn how to counteract your enemies, you must be able to think like them even though you do not wish to. Now, my son, use that Qiang and fight me, no restraint, no holding back.”

“But…I…I can hurt you…” Donatello answered. His voice grew softer and softer toward the end. In response, his master chuckled a little, humorless.  

“That you can hurt me and that you _think_ you can hurt me are two very different concepts, my son. Now on your guard and get ready.”

Wasting no more breath, the aged master spun the staff in his hands and waited for his opponent to enter his stance. Donatello, still reluctant, looked at his father for a while longer before his relented. His fingers guided the spear in his hands, and positioned the metal blade toward his father in readiness.

To his surprise, Master Splinter frowned.

“I told you not to hold back, Donatello.”

“You want me to activate the blade?” the turtle asked, fear filling his thoughts at the idea. The spear suddenly became heavier, and his knuckles shook. _Was it this heavy before?_ His mind asked, but he could find no answer.

“Yes, this is a learning experience, so I suggest you take full advantage of it. Now here I come.”

Immediately, the old master shot forward and delivered a lightning-quick thrust at his opponent’s throat, almost catching Donatello off-guard with his suddenness and promptness of execution. However, the turtle was able to deflect the Bo staff with the body of the Qiang and even retaliated with a jab of his own toward Splinter’s midsection, using the blunt end of the spear.

Though the strike missed, Donatello’s eyes did not. The moment his master jumped backward to evade the attack, he saw the way the rat’s face scrunched up slightly in irritation, and he gulped again.

“My son,” Master Splinter began in a grim tone that suggested that he was being completely solemn, “If you do not take this training session seriously, you will be very hurt.”

“But…” the turtle in purple replied, his eyes momentarily darting toward the switch installed in the Qiang. A cry tore his attention away from it and back to his opponent. He looked forward once more, only see his master approaching again.

Next, a multitude of thrusts and swipes rained down relentlessly upon him. Donatello struggled to keep up with his master’s speed and power, but even his best fell short at times. More than once, different parts of his body were hit by the wooden staff, making him hiss in pain. He was sure his body would be bruised all over in the morning, but at the moment, he cared not. Instead, he focused everything he had on deflecting his master’s attacks and on anticipating his next moves.

He remained on the defensive, silently and analytically studying Splinter’s strikes. The moment an opening was spotted when the rat left his right side open, Donatello capitalized and swung his spear in a horizontally motion, making sure that even if his attack landed, master Splinter would only be hit by the iron shaft instead of the blade.      

Unfortunately, master Splinter had seen that coming, and with practiced ease, he inserted the Bo between himself and the incoming Qiang, effectively stopped the weapon from reaching his waist.

“If you insist on holding your strikes, my son, then I shall force you to be serious,” said the master as one of his hands quickly grabbed the shaft before Donatello could retrieve it. And what happened next sent the purple-clad turtle’s mind reeling into utter horror.

Master Splinter’s finger quickly located and activated the switch, applying more strength than necessary. As a consequence, it was broken, forcing the blade to be stuck in vibration mode until its power supply ran out on its own. Donatello could only stare, wide-eyed, at what had just transpired. The exact moment when the pressure on the shaft disappeared, Donnie reeled the Qiang back to his side, being extremely careful to keep the vibrating blade as far away from himself and his master as possible.

Without saying anything at all, Master Splinter charged forward again, resuming his endless assault on his opponent. More swipes, swings and thrusts were thrown, all of which were performed with more vigor and dexterity than earlier, and Donatello knew he was being pushed back and cornered, forced to use the blade to attack.

He could not stay on the defensive forever, nor could he forfeit. He was certain that the moment he dropped his weapon, his master would start the battle anew until he fought seriously and with all he had.

Soon, Donatello knew he could no longer keep up with the defense. So, with a muttered apology, he dodged the strike his master made and retaliated with a non-lethal jab. Master Splinter, however, had seen that coming, and almost effortlessly, he, too, activated the trigger of his son’s staff, converting the Bo into a naginata.

Simultaneously with his hands, his feet, too, did their parts. Swiftly taking a small step sideway to dodge the thrust, the rat subsequently clashed his weapon hard against the Qiang’s shaft once more. His swing forced the heavier spear to steer off-course, and as a result, Donatello momentarily lost his balance for a few seconds at best. Unfortunately, a few seconds was more than enough for a warrior to draw the line between victory and defeat, and Splinter proved that to be fact rather than fiction.

Taking advantage of his opponent’s imbalance, the old master employed the use of his foot and added more weight on top of the spear. The sudden increase in weight took effect immediately, and the entire spear was pressed down toward the floor. And so did Donatello’s center of gravity.

Not yet recovered from his master’s maneuver, Donatello was consequently struck directly in his face by a powerful kick to his chin, the force of which made his eyes swim with blurs and white dots. All of the sudden, the ground mysteriously disappeared under his feet. His mind could not process what had just happened.

When he was able to see clearly again, Donatello found, to his surprise, he was lying flat on his shell with the tip of the naginata inches away from his throat. Above him, master Splinter stood triumphant, his face serious still as he gazed down at his defeated opponent.

Donatello’s eyes then travelled toward the Qiang a little distance away, only to see that it was stuck on the floor and completely out of reach. The match had reached its conclusion, and with a heavy sigh, Donatello vocalized this admittance.

“I yield, sensei.”

The metal blade pointing at his throat was recalled and disappeared into the wooden body of the Bo soon afterward. In its place, a furry hand extended, and Donatello graciously accepted it.

“How do you feel, my son?” master Splinter asked as he helped the turtle to his feet.

“I’m fine, sensei. And I lost. I’m no match for you.”

“Not true, you were formidable, and from your performance back there, it is clear to me that you have improved significantly, Donatello, and that deserves recognition as it does praises. However, there is still the matter of you insistently going against my order and withholding your strikes.”

“But the spear was dangerous, sensei, you could have been hurt or worse if you had been hit with the blade…” Donatello tried to reason, but his explanation was cut short.

“Exactly,” exclaimed the rat, “You are correct in saying that if I had been hit _by the tip_ , which never happened. Now tell me, Donatello, how did you feel when you wielded that spear?”

“It was…” The turtle assumed a blank face, trying to think back in introspection, “It was heavy, a bit heavier than my Bo because of the material it was made of. It can also cover more ground and extend over a longer distance, but the center of gravity is different due to the metal blade and probably the components installed inside. So…the user’s balance can be disrupted when the spear is thrust forward.”

“Well done, my son,” commented the old rat, a small smile gracing his lips as he listened to his student’s analysis. “While I have no doubt that this weapon is indeed dangerous and very cleverly crafted, it is not without flaws. The noticeably heavier weight is one thing, but the most important aspect lies in the fact that the true strength of the spear is too heavily focused at the metal blade instead of being equally distributed like your Bo staff – and this single-minded focus can prove detrimental in actual combat. As long as the metal blade is avoided with precision, the weapon itself is nothing more than a metal staff in disguise. It can be manipulated with a touch of cleverness, something I’m confident you have in surplus, my son.”

Master Splinter then offered his intelligent and bashful son a smile, which Donatello shyly returned a few seconds later along with a few words of gratitude.

“Thank you, sensei, for the spar. Now that I know how it feels to wield such a weapon, I can devise a way to counter it.”

“Yes…but there’s something else you should also take into account as well, Donatello. A true measure of a weapon depends almost entirely on the user,” the wise master continued, his voice growing lower as he spoke, and his face grimmer. “In the hand of a competent wielder, even one riddled with flaws can be utilized to its full potential. Likewise, in the hands of a malicious user, anything can be converted into a lethal version of itself. And from what you have told me, this Doppler character is not and will not be as hesitant as you were nor will he be bound by honor and compassion when it comes to stealing lives, my son. Beware of that, and take advantage of that if you can.”

Donatello bowed his head respectfully and accepted the Bo staff back from his teacher. “Thank you for your advice, sensei,” he said in earnest.

“Now, you are excused. Do enjoy the rest of your night with your family and friends, my son. You have certainly earned it, all of you.”

With a nod and another quick bow, Donatello left the dojo, leaving Splinter alone again to mediate and steel his mind for what was to befall his family. There was an ominous sensation that made his beard and fur tingle, but what exactly, he could not pinpoint. One thing he knew for certain, however, was that he did not like it, not one bit.

…

The moment Donatello went into the living room, he immediately spotted Michelangelo and Leonardo sitting in front of the small TV set they had, their eyes specifically glued to the news report currently on air regarding the mysterious fire that had destroyed an entire city block as well as the witnesses’ accounts of the incident. Raphael was sitting on the couch rummaging through the pages of a motor magazine that he had received from Casey a few days earlier. As for the two humans, they were not in sight, so Don concluded that they were inside his lab carrying out their private study session.

And interestingly enough, another foreign thought popped into Donatello’s mind.

“How did nobody see us?” he said, and the others’ eyes were upon him immediately. Upon realizing that he had inadvertently gathered everyone’s attention, Don coughed and elaborated.

“That was a huge battle taking place in the middle of the street, so don’t you think how strange it was that nobody saw anything at all?”

“Hmm,” Leo hummed before he spoke up, “I think those turtles had something to do with that.” His attention was then turned back to the TV set. “According to the interviewed people living in that specific area, all of them received strange messages on their phones saying that they had won something and that they should report to a certain address to win an award…Others say they received police calls or hospital calls stating that someone they know is in trouble…”

“People can be so gullible,” Raph commented, flipping a page.

“I don’t know, Raph…” Leo replied, a thoughtful expression taking over his face, “Different people received different messages tailored specifically to them, so if our clones had indeed been behind the citizen’s unknowing evacuation, they certainly had done a very thorough job at that. It’s good that nobody was caught in the fire, but…”

“It goes to show how sneaky and dangerous they are,” Donnie added with a nod. His eyes zoomed in on the TV for a while, but soon, he tore them away.  “I think we’ve had enough worries for one day, I need a break.”

In an instant, he could sense three pairs of mischievous eyes looking at him and at each other, and a sudden chill crept up and down his spine in response – an unexpected reaction. When Donnie turned his head around, his feeling was confirmed when he saw his brothers staring at him. Each of them was wearing a smirk on their faces.

“What?” Donnie asked, somewhat apprehended by the sudden spotlight he had been put in.

“Oh nothing,” Mikey replied with a high-pitched tone that obviously implied the exact opposite of what was being said. “I was just thinking…”

“A very dangerous thing to do most of the time,” Donnie retorted, but nobody paid his remark any mind.

“Like I said,” Mikey repeated, undaunted by the interruption, “I was thinking that since we have the rest of the night off, how about some…quality time together?” his smile could not have stretched further, Donnie swore. He knew, but still, there was a very big problem at hand.

“But there’s nowhere to fit all of us…” said the purple-banded turtle with a discoloration spreading across his beak, much to the other three’s delight and mirth. Donnie tried his best to ignore the looks and went on with his explanation before irrationality took over his brothers’ minds and result in a situation beyond anyone’s control.   

“Master Splinter is in the dojo, and the lab is occupied by Casey and April, so…the only place that can possibly fit all four of us is here, but I doubt it’s a good idea.”

“How about the sewers?” asked Mikey, looking a bit disappointed.

“Really Mikey?” Donnie asked with a blank face, his voice incredulous. “In case you haven’t noticed, we may not have the cleanest home on Earth, but I still prefer to have proper hygiene and avoid contact with harmful bacteria, thank you very much.”

“But man, I’m horny!” Mikey whined before he was squatted across the head by Raph again, who chastised the orange-banded ninja for his volume. Mikey glared at his attacker, but as a norm, Raph won the staring contest in the end, much to the former’s annoyance.

“So…how about we draw a lot at random?” Leo, being the reasonable one of the household, helpfully suggested. “There will be two pairs, so the two that draw the same pair will pair up for the night, and so will the remaining ones. How does that sound? Fair?”

The others contemplated for a while before they voiced their consensus at the plan. Immediately, four lots were made with haste, with two marked and the rest unmarked. Leo, insistently nominated by Donnie as the only one present that would not cheat no matter what Raph and Mikey had to say in the matter, placed the lots inside a small carton box and gave it a shake.

“Alright, random,” said the turtle in blue as he positioned the box in the middle of the room. “Who first?”

“Ooh, me! Me first! Me first!” Mikey sang, one hand raised in the air, and before anyone could say anything, his hand was already inside object, running around the empty space in search of a paper lot.

“Hmm,” the youngest turtle felt the texture of a piece he managed to find with a thoughtful look on his face, “Nope, not this one…Now let’s see…This one…Nope…How about…”

“Mikey…” Raph grunted warningly. For emphasis, he even cracked his knuckles and got closer.

“Okay, this one!” Mikey cried out and pulled a lot out of the box, holding up high in the air triumphantly. “I have a good feeling about this one here.”  

“Unbelievable…They’re all the same for crying out loud,” Raph muttered and shook his head, but as the one currently sitting closest to the red-clad turtle, Donatello could see a ghost of a smile on the other’s face, barely visible but clearly there. The genius let out a quiet musing sound at that, but otherwise acted oblivious.

Leonardo went next, and then Raphael. Donatello went last. And soon, everyone had their lot ready, anxiously waiting for the grand unfolding.  

“Okay…Moment of truth here,” Leo announced, “Ready guys?” The other three nodded, their fingers curling around the folded pieces of paper they were respectively holding.

“3…2…1…Open!” Leo cued.  

The four lots were simultaneously unfolded following the order, and four pair of eyes looked at the content of their pieces before all were widened.

Oh, this was going to be interesting, thought Mikey cheekily as he studied his drawn piece – a marked paper – before his eyes turned to Donatello, who had the other matching pair in his possession.

This was going to be quite a ravishing night for every turtle indeed.       


	18. Bonding (Donnie x Mikey)

Left Out

Arc 2: Dancing Shadows

Chapter 18: Bonding (Donnie x Mikey)

As dictated by the results of the lottery, the turtles had to pair up with the one that held the matching piece. While Mikey had seemed more than eager and pleased to begin his first private night with his closest brother Donatello, Raph and Leo had comically displayed mixed feelings regarding their arrangements, and both had not at all been shy to show their thoughts outwardly.

“Can we redo this?” Raph had asked, his face scrunched up a bit at the thought that he – someone who so often played the dominant role – had to share the room with another like-minded individual of the household, Leonardo. At the same time, the turtle in blue had, too, assumed an expression that seemed torn between disbelief and dubiousness, unsure if he and Raph could be partners together.  Unfortunately, it had been his idea, so Leonardo, no matter how much he wanted to share his passionate time with one of the more submissive turtles in the lair, had to abide by his own rules, even when such rules might potentially lead to unforeseeable outcomes that he dared not dwell to deeply upon.

And thus, with a gentle shake of his head, the leader had turned to his determined partner and voiced his opinion.

“No, Raph, we agreed to do the lot, and the results were purely random,” Leo had said, his voice soft yet stern, leaving no room for further objection to be made – a useful ability he had acquired from countless hours spent with Master Splinter in the dojo. “So, we must honor the results. Mikey and Donnie will get their time, while you…and me…will be spending the night together.”

The look he had received from Raphael could not have been more incredulous. The expression upon the face of the red-masked ninja had been one of blankness, completely skeptical as to how the two headstrong oldest members of the family could engage in acts of sex without conflicts regarding who should be allowed to stay on top. Raph had grunted at the idea, but otherwise said nothing. Instead, he had followed Leo into the latter’s personal chamber, but not before lingering a little behind to watch as Michelangelo gleefully drag Donatello toward the genius’ bedroom.

With a shake of his head and an audible release of breath, Raph, too, had followed Leo.

It was thanks to the lottery that at the moment, both Donnie and Mikey were sitting on the former’s bed inside the rarely visited room in the genius’ possession. Owing to the fact that much of his time was devoted either inside the lab or in the living room, Donatello’s bedroom was among the more organized ones, second only to Leo’s. Additionally, the room was simple and mostly bare, void of furniture except for a small desk in the left corner, a bookshelf filled up with stories instead of scientific journals and a one-person bed neatly placed in the right corner. The lack of furniture meant shortage of obstacles, allowing for more space for maneuverability and movement - perfect for a private night of passion for two in Mikey’s opinion.

“Dude, we’ve been living together for years and I don’t think I’ve been inside your bedroom much,” Mikey commented as he walked around and surveyed the area, eyes shining at the stark differences he could note between his own and Donatello’s personal space.

The turtle in purple simply nodded and replied.

“Truth to be told, I don’t normally go here except for the times when I’m really tired, like on-the-brink-of-losing-consciousness tired. So now that I’m actually here while still sober, I feel strange as well. I never realized how barren my own bedroom is compared to yours and the others’.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Mikey chimed in happily, his usual sunshine smile seemingly shedding light inside the dimly lit area. “It means less obstruction when we get rough, right D.?” he added with a sly and suggestive smirk. Donatello blushed and turned away swiftly. His body was noticeably tense.

“Hey, what’s wrong Donnie?” the turtle in orange asked again, this time in a much softer tone, when he looked at his closest brother.

“Nothing…” came the quiet reply of the normally talkative genius as he tried to lay the matter to rest and avoid causing his partner any discomfort. Mikey, however, was not fooled. 

“It’s _not_ nothing when you look _that_ uncomfortable, Donnie,” he stated, uncharacteristically serious, “Come on, dude, I’ve known all of you since we were kids, and since we could walk and talk, I’ve spent more time with you than with both Raph and Leo put together, so don’t even think about fooling me, D.. I’m no idiot.”

At first, silence greeted Mikey, and it took a few more attempts at coaxing, at reassuring the other that he could be truthful about what was crossing his mind until Donatello’s defense was at last dropped. His admission was uttered in a soft, almost subdued voice, which would have been impossible to make out had it not been for the still silence wrapping around both of them.

“I’m not experienced…” he admitted as he turned around, half of his face revealed to Mikey. And the youngest was stunned into speechlessness for a few seconds, his brain failing to function properly as he gazed upon the looks Donatello was wearing then.  Donatello’s face perfectly matched the tinge that could normally be seen when one takes the time to wait for the breathtakingly mystical and enchanting time moments before the sun wholly disappears in the horizon afar and takes away its rays of warmth. That expression was as sinful as it was innocent, so deviously yet unknowingly appealing to the dormant lust lurking within Mikey and springing it to life. Soon, Mikey’s face, too, was a delicious shade of red.

Seemingly oblivious to the change his own reaction had provoked, Donatello went on, “Admittedly, I don’t know what to do exactly…All I’ve ever done is beat off on my own…I’m not as skilled as Raph or Leo is…so I’m afraid you won’t enjoy much with me…”

It was then that Mikey finally remembered a very important fact. Donatello was still a virgin – the only one left in the family of mutants, and despite what he had experienced last time, he was still fresh in this game.

“Oh…” Mikey muttered in understanding before he looked away and scratched his neck sheepishly, “Oh…right…I kinda forgot…well, that tiny detail…”

“Sorry…” Donnie apologized, but Mikey was quicker.

“No worries, D.” he exclaimed jubilantly and grabbed both of the taller turtle’s hands. Slowly and gently, the genius was guided toward the bed and sat down. Mikey sat down as well, making sure to sit a little distance away to avoid overwhelming his brother. “Relax, okay. Just like last time…calm down and we’ll go through it step-by-step…”

He paused, his smile faltered a little, but barely noticeable. “If you’re still uncomfortable, maybe we should…wait until next time?”

To his surprise, however, it was Donnie who voiced his objection, quite vehemently so.

“No, I can do this…” he ascertained, and Mikey could not help but smile a little at the seriousness of his voice.

“Dude…Calm down,” said the orange-banded ninja with an amused chuckle, “This isn’t a test or anything, so chill. This is something meant to be enjoyed, not fretted over, Donnie. So don’t get worked up too much about it. Kay?”

“Okay…”

“Good, now then, gears off…” Mikey said before he stood up and swiftly discarded of his gears, weapon and mask. Donatello followed, but his movements were clearly slower and shyer, understandably so. Mikey did not rush him, however. Soon, both turtles were sitting on the bed, bare and naked as the day they had been born into life. Donnie shifted his body a little where he was sitting on his bed, suddenly feeling self-conscious at the analytical looks his brother was giving him.

Another blush formed on his beak, and he looked away, avoiding eye contact. It was short-lived, for a hand tenderly guided his vision back. Brown eyes bore into baby blue ones, the latter shining with understanding and unusual patience while the former with nervousness.

Neither moved from their position for a while until the younger of the pair made the first move. Gently, Mikey cupped his other hand around Donnie’s cheek and pulled him downward to his level. A kiss landed on the lips – a swift peck on the surface. Yet, the effect was astounding on the taller turtle.

“Like last time, okay, Donnie,” said Mikey again as he pulled back, “Just let me handle everything.”

“But…” he tried to protest, his breath quickened. A finger pressed against his mouth silenced him.

“No buts…you’re not used to this, and that’s okay. Seriously, it took _me_ a few weeks until I finally let Raph…you know…” the youngest fell into silence. Instead of describing the act verbally, he opted to use his fingers to animate it. The slight discoloration upon his cheeks darkened, but his smile grew wider in contrast. Donnie nodded almost mechanically at the implication, his throat dry and face slightly paler than normal.

“Okay…” he answered shakily before he relaxed his muscles. Donnie leaned back, both hands planted on the soft mattress of his bed, and stretched his legs. His entire natural body was revealed in its entirety.

Enticing, Mikey thought to himself as he studied and greedily took in every inch of the flustered genius’ physique, memorizing each and every detail on the wholly exposed skin on the genius’ thighs and knees, arms and neck. It took a lot for Donatello to keep his legs still and not close them up, but somehow, he managed to triumph over that urge.

“Ready?” he heard Mikey’s quiet voice ask, and in response, Donnie silently nodded and closed his eyes.

Suddenly, a touch was felt on his thigh, and in response, his body jolted at the foreign sensation. A stifled yelp of surprise was caught in his throat. Slowly, a similar touch was felt on the other thigh, and this time, Donnie could not stop himself from whimpering a little.

“Hey Donnie, it’s okay, breathe in and out, relax your body, and let me take care of you,” Mikey said, and at that moment, the genius opened his eyes, only to see that his brother’s face was very near him, the distance almost inconsequential and nonexistent. Donatello did as advised, and soon, his breathing evened, his body still and less tenses than before.

“I’m good now…” he announced with a small, crooked smile, which the other happily returned with a brighter counterpart.

Then, Michelangelo bridged the remaining space between their faces and sealed another kiss on the genius’ lips. At first, it was a replica of the previous one, a small, swift peck, but the second one was longer and deeper, more passionate and more natural.

Donnie opened his mouth more, allowing better access for his partner, an invitation Mikey did not need to think twice to take. The younger leaned back a little and ran his tongue along Don’s top and bottom lips in turn, enjoying the inconsistent amorous moans that were able to sneakily slip past the genius’ restraint. Oh, involuntary shudders crept up and down his spines at those sounds hit him. They were heavenly, like a series of captivating notes of a symphonic masterpiece to Mikey, and they made his member a little bit impatient and bothered inside its confine.

Encouraged by the sweet touches and caresses he was receiving, Donatello’s mouth widened even further as the seconds ticked away. Recognizing the sign of consensus from his partner, Michelangelo quickly inserted his tongue inside the alluring entrance. At first, Donatello’s eyes shot up in surprise at the suddenness of the act, but soon, he grew to enjoy it and began to immerse himself in the adult kiss.

Silenced moans of pleasure were mixed with various naughty sounds produced by the two tongues dancing sensually and ardently inside the genius’ mouth, twisting around one another and heatedly locked in a series of unconscious yet amative movements. Both turtles were lost in their own little world, and even the need for air was forgone, forgotten in the spur of the moment and even promptly ignored at first.

Unfortunately, much too soon for both, their lungs demanded that they be filled up with oxygen. Only then did their kiss end, but the effects brought about by it lingered.

Donnie felt something moving against his leg – up and down and up and down in consistence - and glanced down in curiosity. He was pleasantly surprised to see Mikey grinding himself against his appendage. Hard and hot puffs of breath escaped the younger ninja’s agape mouth as he aroused himself.

“Donnie…” said Michelangelo in a fashion not dissimilar from a needy whine. All of the sudden, he lunged forward, and any shred of self-restraint that had been present within him was gone. Mikey wrapped both hands around his brother’s neck and once again, initiated a third, deeper and rougher kiss. Their minds were now filled not with rationality and civil intelligence, but with urges birthed by their more primal instincts and urges. Soon, Donatello, too, wrapped his hands around his brother and pulled the smaller boy closer, desiring and even craving for more physical contacts.

As their lips and tongues were locked, one of Michelangelo’s hands let go and began to move, as if possessing a mind of its own, downward. The calloused fingers of the nunchuck master trailed along the rough surface of the genius’ plastron, slowly, sensually…provocatively.

Donatello whimpered when his brother’s fingers ran along his sensitive side, but like before, the soft whimper was lost amidst the snatches of much louder, much naughtier notes their tongues were collaboratively composing with fervor and with vigor multiplied.

Even when his mind was lost in pleasure, Donatello could still vaguely register the feeling the friction grinding against his leg as well as the not so subtle twitch in Mikey’s private region. A blush was brought back to his face, and it subsequently grew exponentially bigger, dominating his entire facial features as a result, when he felt his younger partner’s hand massaging his slit.

Silenced noises of protest soon morphed into ones of consensus, and from consensus to pleasure. His body trembled harder and harder as Mikey’s hand picked up its pace. And soon, his growing erection could not be content with its confine any longer and sprang out to life, hard and twitchy in anticipation. The tip of Donnie’s member was shimmering with pre-cum, and a small trail was dripping down even though Mikey had done nothing but kiss and caress him.

A testament to inexperience indeed.

“Hmm, looks like someone is eager to play, and a bit twitchy, too. How adorable,” Mikey commented suggestively with a sly smirk on his lips after he broke the kiss and spotted Donatello’s throbbing erection.

“M-Mikey…” the genius tried to speak, but he could not make his words coherent amidst the heavy pants and gasps, “Don’t…tease…”

“But that’s the fun part, D.” the younger replied and gave Donatello’s neck a lick, spreading shivers throughout the genius’ body. This time, Donnie’s whimpers came out unobstructed, echoing inside the enclosed bedroom. Michelangelo wetted his lips and shot his partner another sly smirk, this one much wider and foxier than its previous predecessor. Leaning in closer and whispering next to Don’e head, the cheeky boy added.

“Besides…” Miked continued, “This _D_. seems to enjoy hearing my voice…” his fingers lightly and tantalizingly tracing along the length of Donatello’s penis, the tips of his digits barely scraping the sensitive skin. Donatello could not prevent a gasp to jump straight out of his throat. His head bobbed backward. His breathing quickened and his hips moved forward on their own, yearning for more caresses, more touches...more pressure. At the sight of Don’s endurance crumbling before his very eyes, Michelangelo could not help but chuckle with mirth.

“Your handjob was good, Don, but let me show you some techniques on how to improve the effects,” said the youngest before he wrapped his fingers around Donatello’s throbbing member, making the other cry out loud.

And then, the hand began to move along the length of the hard shaft, slowly motions up and down at first. At the same time, Mikey’s tongue cleaned his chin before it moved downward to his throat and plastron. Donatello’s mind was sent reeling into a whirl of numerous sensations radiating from his entire body. The wetness of his brother’s tongue running along the hot skin of his exposed chin and neck caused new waves of shivers and shudders to crash through his entire being, making his mind go blank and washing his strength away altogether.

“How do you feel?” Mikey asked, grinning surreptitiously as he pumped Donatello’s manhood. The genius tried to utter some response, but he could not seem to get his vocal cord to work right. Grinning even wider at his brother’s reaction to his treament, Mikey flicked his tongue across Donnie’s chin for one last time before he lowered his body, his beaming eyes positioned at the same level as his partner’s luscious erection. Suddenly, his hand stopped moving, making Donatello groan at the sudden loss of stimulation.

“Mi…key…” muttered Donatello quietly as he looked down, his eyes half focused, and his face glistening with sweats, “What are you…”

“Get ready D., ‘cause this is gonna blow your mind away,” the younger, after freeing his manhood as well and began to pleasure himself with his free hand, exclaimed confidently before he opened his mouth right above the tip of his partner’s penis. A stream of saliva was released, and within seconds, Donnie’s agonized member was drenched in the warm, sticky liquid, making the genius gasp.

“Now then,” he heard his brother state, but he could not focus. “Let’s continue, shall we? I guarantee this one will take you over the edge, brother dearest.”

All of the sudden, the pressure around his penis returned again, harder and tighter than before, and Donatello bent backward reflexively. Mikey’s hand resumed its treatment. But it was different, immensely and much more satisfyingly different as Don soon discovered.

“Oh my gosh!” the genius shouted stridently and titillating. His breathing quickened even further, his fingers instinctively grabbed his mattress, his knees and toes curled up. The newly added wetness and slipperiness of Mikey’s saliva greatly amplified the blissful feelings he was being subjected to and augmented the delight produced by the salacious act tenfold.

“Those are some amazing and lewd noises you’re making there, Donnie,” commented Michelangelo teasingly. Stopping his masturbation for a while, the youngest placed the palm of his free hand against the lubed tip of Donnie’s penis. Unexpectedly, he rubbed, hard.

Donatello did not know what to think anymore, nor could he stop the involuntary convulsion of his body. The rough surface of his brother’s palm rubbed against his wet, leaking and utterly sensitive tip, sending a wave of electricity coursing through his being and numbing his functions. Pleasure was the only thought that remained inside his whitewashed brain.

With just his kisses, words and hands alone, Mikey had managed to reduce the most scholarly member of the mutant family into a shivering, sweaty and ineloquent mess, sending him spiraling deep into his own desires for relief.

“Mikey…” Don managed to gasp out at long last, “I’m…I’m gonna come…Ah…soon…”

And then, everything stopped at once.

“Not yet, D.,” said Michelangelo as he glanced up to answer the bewildered and disappointed stare of his partner. “Try to hold on a little longer, okay.”

“But…” Don tried to protest, but his thought process was cut short when Mikey pushed him down, causing him to lie flat on his shell on the bed. Before any forms of chastising could commence, Donatello was rendered speechless once more when he saw, with wide eyes filled with undisguised shock, his partner climb on top of him, his back entrance positioned directly above the genius’ denied erection. At that moment, the younger turtle’s healthy member was revealed as well, making Donatello blush yet again at the indescribably ravishing sight.

“Mikey?” he asked as realization dawned on him regarding the intention of the younger. Michelangelo, however, smiled encouragingly.

“Don’t worry about Donnie,” he began, “Just lie back and enjoy the show, dude. Leave everything to me.”

Not wasting a second longer, Mikey put his fingers inside his mouth and meticulously wetted them with his natural lube. The boy subsequently directed the digits toward his hole and began to coax the entrance open, all the while letting out grunts and moans galore. It was a sight that was virtually impossible for Donatello not to get aroused. His penis throbbed and twitched, punctuating its movement in tandem with every lewd noise that came out of his younger brother’s throat. Mikey’s eyes were screwed shut, and his jaw hanging, allowing a small, iridescent trail of saliva to run down his chin and neck, mixed in with the numerous beads of perspiration - an astonishingly suggestive picture whose beauty could not be given with justice with words alone in Don’s opinion.

Donnie’s breath hitched yet again. His throat became as dry as the desert at midday and his focus turned into tunnel vision, seeing only the steamy and arousing sight of his younger partner playing with his own butthole with one hand and rhythmically jacking his stiff manhood with the other.

Donatello watched with undeterred concentration as Mikey first inserted one finger inside himself. And then, one turned into two, and at last, three, stretching his hole as much as he could in preparation for the next feat.

“Nrghhh…I’m ready now…” Michelangelo said breathlessly as he took his hand out and stopped pleasuring himself. He reached down and rewetted Donatello’s shaft in another stream of slippery saliva before resituating his elongated entrance above the sensitive tip.

“Mikey…I…I…” Don stammered over his words, but whatever he was thinking of was inevitably banished from the depths of his mind when Mikey lowered himself over his penis. Simultaneously, both turtles cried out.

Despite initial difficulties, Mikey tried harder and harder, and little by little, Donatello’s length gradually disappeared from plain sight. The new sensations were overwhelming for the genius. His penis was squeezed tightly on the inside of his brother, and the scraping of his sensitive tip against the sides of the younger turtle’s entrance caused him to quiver violently on his bed, his knocked back head and arched back sinking harder against the mattress, countless noises emitting from his open mouth.

“So…tight!” he unknowingly vocalized his thoughts the moment his shaft was swallowed completely. “So hot! It’s...It feels amazing!”

The other let out a strained chuckle at Donatello’s honesty, “Yeash, you’re even more adorable when you can’t think straight, D.” he remarked, but whether or not Donatello had heard him was dubious at best. He did not care, however. Then, pausing a little to gather relax his muscles and calm his nerves down, Michelangelo let out a brief warning to his partner before he began to move.

Donnie could not find the words to describe the amount of pleasure and ecstasy he was experiencing then and there. So many things were happening at once, and every sense of his was switched to hypersensitive mode. The combination of warmth and tightness of his brother’s butthole squeezing against his throbbing erection along with the sexually gratifying moans mixed with the enthralling cries of his name relentlessly assaulting his hearing forced him to get nearer and nearer to his eventual and inevitable climax.

“Donnie!” Michelangelo wailed, feeling a tingling sensation forming inside his free, bobbing penis.

“Mikey!” Donatello, too, joined in as he felt the grand finale drew near.

They both wailed at the same time, and at that exact moment, their endurance gave out at last. Both turtles shamelessly cried out in sheer delight as they strongly exploded and unloaded their pent-up juice – Donnie’s semen was pumped straight inside his brother’s while Mikey’s cum shot out, matting his partner’s face and plastron in numerous touches of thick, creamy white.

As soon as the lingering numbing spell cast by their post-orgasm came to pass, Mikey unceremoniously collapsed against Don. The genius’ seeds leaked out of his stretched entrance, but for the moment, he did not care, and instead focused on his breathing. Neither of them was even remotely bothered by the mess they had made on the bed.

“So,” he began, breathless, as he looked into Donatello’s hazy eyes, “How was it?”

“On a scale from one to ten…” Donatello replied, but like before, he was having a hard time speaking up, but he managed, “That deserved a thousand,” stated the genius with a small, tired chuckle.

“Dude, that’s like off the charts.”

“’Cause it was, Mikey…That was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever felt…It blew my mind…”

“One of?” Mikey asked and tried to sit up. “Only one of? What about the most amazing one then?” he added, genuinely curious. To his surprise, however, Donatello merely laughed it off and turned over, unexpectedly pulling the smaller turtle into a tight, loving embrace and making him yelp in astonishment. The younger terrapin looked at his brother and saw that his unmasked brown eyes were fluttering, already half-closed. A cute yawn soon followed.   

“Next time,” Donnie spoke again, his voice soft and whispery as a result of exhaustion, “I’ll return the favor…”

And with that, the content genius dripped off to a peaceful, dreamless sleep, a small smile plastered on his face as he did.

Michelangelo chuckled quietly at that intriguing thought, and already, he was looking forward to that day in the future. Then, after letting out a satisfied yawn of his own, the youngest ninja snuggled up to his closest brother, innocently tucking his head under the taller terrapin’s chin like a small child desiring warmth and protection. With thoughts of the future still playing in his mind, Michelangelo, too, decided to turn in early and succumbed to the sweet allure of sleep.      


	19. Bonding (Leo x Raph - Round 1)

Left Out

Arc 2: Dancing Shadows

Chapter 19: Bonding (Leo x Raph - Round 1)

“Well?” Raphael grunted with a hint of impatience in his brusque low voice, his acidic green eyes narrowed as they stared intently at the shell of his designated partner for the night. The red-masked ninja was currently sitting with both legs crossed on the lone bed inside Leonardo’s bedroom, a bored expression on his face. The other, however, did not seem bothered by it where he was, instead, he continued to pay attention to his work.

“I can’t hear anything,” replied the turtle in blue from where he was bending forward, his face scrunched up in pure and unwavering concentration, as he pressed harder against the wall of his own bedroom to the point where Raph thought his puffed up cheek would be forever stuck to the structure. “Like I thought, the walls here have been thoroughly soundproofed, mostly thanks to you and Mikey for your thunderous snoring.”

Raph rolled his eyes at that remark, but said nothing in his defense.  

“Hmm, then we simply have to rely on something else for our entertainment then, don’t we, Leo?” the turtle in red said as he approached his older brother, a conniving grin stretching dangerously across his lips and his eyes fixed on the little, unsuspecting tail protruding from the other’s backside, exposed and all so deliciously vulnerable for the taking.

It was one open invitation that Raph would not hesitate to take whether Leo was aware of it or not. He was horny and in the mood, so Leo would have to be the one to quench his thirst for the night – one way or another.

Employing everything he had been taught in the art of stealth and ambush, the sai master crept closer to where his older brother was, anxious to take the other by surprise. The moment Raph deemed was the right time to strike, his hand swiftly shot forward.

Suddenly…

“Don’t even think about it, Raph,” said Leonardo in a low voice, his face unimpressed by his brother’s attempt at ambush. With practiced ease, the leader of the teenage ninja swiftly turned around and wrapped his fingers around his partner’s wrist, effectively putting a stop to Raph’s sneaky advance. A sly and patronizing smirk then formed on his face, blue eyes shining with something akin to amusement as they bore into their green counterparts.

“A word of advice, next time, you may want to pick a starting place that is less croaky. Your weight and my bed…not exactly a match made in heaven when it comes to launching a surprise hit,” said Leonardo. Raph only grunted again in response.

“Well, what do you expect then?” Raphael retorted, frustrated, “I’m horny, I’m bothered, I’m annoyed, and worst yet, I’m sitting in this room imagining Donnie and Mikey sucking themselves off in a private space. I need to get off and yet I’m here, doing nothing.”

Leo nodded in sympathy, but still, his face was still stern.

“Look, I know, I am bothered as well by our…unfortunate arrangement,”

“And whose is that I wonder?” Raphael interjected rudely. Leo glared at him, but the warning proved useless against the perpetually defiant ninja in red.

“Ahem…as I was saying, I am bothered as well, but there’s no force on this earth or in this lifetime that can possibly make me willingly give my hole to you to drill. That’s final.”

“Great! Just freaking great! Of all the turtles in the lair, I have to be saddled up with you and your pride,” Raph said and crossed his hands in irritation.

“My sentiments exactly,” replied Leo quietly.

A brief moment of silence fell between the two stubborn and prideful ninjas of the family. Both remained stationary where they were, locked in an epic staring contest where neither was willing to back down or back out. It was not until the silence had gotten too tense that Leo took the initiative and decided that it was time to banish it. In a careful and measured voice, the leader shook his head gently and spoke up again.

“Look, this is not going to work out. You want to top, I want to top, and that means nothing’s going to happen.”

“Darn right!” Raph said, but Leo paid him and his attitude no mind in favor of searching a way to make a compromise here.

“Then I propose we take turns. I top first, then it’s your turn, savvy?” Leo suggested with a straight face. As soon as the words left his mouth, however, Raph immediately put his cents in without even a moment of contemplation.

“Over my dead body!” he cried out loud, looking as if scandalized by the suggestion, “Why do you gotta go first, huh? And don’t even pull the ‘I’m the leader so you have to listen to me,’ bull. I’m tired of hearing it during patrols already, so don’t kill my mood in the bedroom as well.”

Leo, having already expected such a statement from his stubborn and rebellious brother, only sighed tiredly and shook his head again, disapproving of Raph’s headstrong disposition and utterly infuriating competitive streak. However, he was not one to give up, either, and he had to come up with a way to make the most out of his current situation, or predicament according to his mind. Being the more reasonable of the pair at the moment, Leonardo knew he would have to be the first one to make compromises.

But that did not deter him from at least putting up a fight, if only to satisfy his own pride.

“Alright, we’ll decide the turn by chance with Rock, Paper, Scissors. One round only. The winner gets to top first, the loser second. Fair?”

This time, much to the leader’s mirth, Raphael actually took some time to entertain the idea for a moment before he looked up again, a grin taking over his face as he did so.

“Your ass is gonna be mine first, Fearless.”

“Language, Raph,” Leo reprimanded sternly, “Don’t get used to using such words so carelessly. Trust me, you do not want to make a habit out of it and have Master Splinter hear you say things like that, unintentionally or not.”

“Bla, bla, bla…Save your preaching, blue boy. Let’s go!” the impatient turtle in red cried out.

“Oh, and by the way, a minor heads-up. I’m leading with scissors,” Leo suddenly stated before he got in position, much to his brother’s surprise.

“The shell, Leo? You honestly expect me to fall for that blatant trick?”

“Hmm, just saying,” replied Leonardo gently and calmly – a touch too calmly for Raphael’s liking. The expression of blankness donned by the leader was an image of a perfect poker face, making it virtually impossible for Raphael to decipher his partner’s real intention no matter how much the red-clad ninja tried. Then, with a growl, Raph decided to ignore the offhand comment completely, deeming it a deception, and got ready.

“Whatever. You’re gonna be the first to get drilled, bro,” he announced, but his opponent said nothing. The cryptic smirk remained stuck still on his face.

“Rock…Paper…Scissors!” they both shouted loudly at the same time, and in one single moment, the result was decided.

Raph had selected paper while Leonardo, staying true to his every word earlier, had decided on scissors. The reaction that followed was, as Leo thought, entirely within his range of anticipation.  

“The shell!” Raph yelled, outraged. He could only stare at his and Leo’s hands in disbelief, still unable to resign himself to the fact that he had just lost the battle. Worse still, it was a battle he had been given a heads-up before it even commenced.  

“’All war is based on deception,’ quoted from Sun Tzu,” Leo said with a shrewd smirk stretching across his thin lips, “But sometimes, the best form of deception comes from the simple, naked truth, quoted from yours truly, Leonardo.”

“It’s…It’s not fair. You cheated!” Raph retorted again and again, but his partner was unfazed by the loud volume and the threatening glare he was giving.

“Well, you decided to play along, and now you lost. Rules are rules. That means I top first, and then you go second…provided that you can still manage to stay conscious when your turn rolls around that is.”

“Well heck no! I demand a replay. I’m so gonna wipe your…” Raph’s sentence was suddenly cut short when a hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his outstretched wrist. Before he could react to the sudden assault, Leonardo deftly maneuvered himself behind his brother and bent the captured hand behind his opponent’s shell while applying a fair amount of pressure on Raph’s shoulder area, not enough to inflict any real damage but strong enough to restrain the other from counteracting. Another swift and well-aimed kick to the back of the leg subsequently forced Raph down on one knee, locked. Leo had successfully pinned the physically stronger fighter in place.

“Now that’s how you launch an ambush, swift, quiet, effective. And by the way, you know my view on breaking rules, Raphie,” Leo began, and the trapped turtle did not even need to look back to see the cocky smirk on his face at that moment. “So, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which one do you prefer, _dear_ _brother_?”

“Fine. Fine. I give. Just get off of me, would ‘cha!” was the answer he received, much to his delight.

“Good, now, gears and weapons off and aside.”

Immediately, everything was stripped, leaving only flesh and skin, bare in all of its glory. To Raphael’s surprise yet again, Leo was still fully geared up, his pads and mask still on. Only his swords were put away.

“What the shell, Leo? Why aren’t you…”

Anything else was immediately silenced when a pair of rough lips crashed against his own. At first, Raphael tried to make an effort for some half-hearted attempts at resistance, but soon, his tough façade was discarded completely. Slowly yet surely, his muscles relaxed, his expression mellowed and Raphael melted into the wet, passionate and enthralling kiss his partner was giving him.

With his guard and resistant exterior breached and neutralized, Raph obediently lifted his chin up a little and open his lips a bit more, allowing Leonardo to explore deeper into his inside. Their tongues twisted around one another for a while before the leader gave Raph’s a gentle bite, making him wince a little.

Moving back and breaking the kiss, Leonardo grabbed Raphael’s still extended tongue with his fingers and tugged on it. The saliva concentrated at the tip soaked Leo’s fingers while that at the base dripped down Raphael’s chin and neck in a slow, enticing fashion. Heavy breathing and airy pants escaped Raph’s widely open mouth, and his face was colored in a shade not unlike that of the signature red he always wore. The naked turtle, however, did not seem to mind or care.

Leo chuckled at the sight of his hothead brother before him, so obedient and tamed very unlike his usual brash and boisterous image he was always associated with. Leo applied a bit more strength behind his fingers and pulled a bit harder, further stretching the captured appendage. At the same time, his free hand snaked around Raph’s backside. He quickly located Raphael’s twitching tail and, unexpectedly, gave it a squeeze.

The effect was instantaneous – rousingly so. The sudden electrifying sensation produced by Leo’s action caused a shudder to quake Raphael’s body. A rather loud and shameless moan escaped his throat, and his eyes shut as the aftereffect of the treatment lingered, making his knees wobble.

“You should sit down, Raph,” Leo said teasingly. He then let go of Raphael’s tongue made his way for his bed. Raphael followed, weakly grunting but not protesting.

“Lie on the bed and extended your hands over your head,” Leo spoke in an authoritative tone. Raph glared at him, but still complied. Leonardo reached under his bed and retrieved some ropes and began to wrap them tightly around both of his brother’s wrists.

“When my turn comes, you’re so dead, Leo,” he stated, and the other chuckled in amusement.

“ _Until_ your turn comes, Raphie, I’m in charge. And don’t move,” said the turtle in blue as he finished tying Raphael’s hands against the bedposts, securing the naked turtle in place and also exposing him entirely for the upcoming ravishing session.

“I swear, you get a kinky kick out of telling others what to do and keeping them _in_ _place_ , Leo.”

“And it doesn’t look like you hate it as much as you claim to.”

Another grunt, and then, silence reigned. Leo reached for his drawer of his nightstand nearby to retrieve a bottle of lubricant. After applying a generous amount of the slipper and cold substance onto his hands, Leo climbed over Raphael’s exposed body and studied his flustered brother. Raphael’s entire body was still, and the position in which he was lying allowed all of his well-developed muscles to be displayed in their glorious, burly beauty. And the tinge of red spreading across the captive’s beak only added more to the absolutely salacious and riveting image. So alluring was it that even Leonardo, with years of practicing self-control and self-restraint, could not fully hold back a small, subtle twitch inside his cloaca.

Oh, he could not wait to begin ravishing Raph as he was right now, Leo thought and slowly ran his tongue across his lips, wetting his appetite before the feast.

“Now then…”

All of the sudden, his wet fingers grabbed Raph’s nether region, making him flinch violently. More throaty moans and groans were elicited. At the same time, the leader’s remaining hand pressed against Raph’s back entrance, but the fingers were not inserted yet. Instead, they ran circles around the closed opening, teasingly and deliberately.

Raph tried to bite back his moans, but his attempt was met with tremendous difficulty.

“Let it out, Raph, let me hear your voice when you’re lost in pleasure. Don’t be shy. Don’t hold back…” Leo leaned down and whispered right next to Raphael’s head, allowing his hot breath to tickle the other’s face. His hands continued to massage the naked turtle’s sensitive parts. With the feeling of a wet tongue trailing along his chin and neck coupled with the two hands stimulating him, Raphael’s endurance soon crumbled.

A series of moans followed, and before long, his erection, too, made its grand entrance. His breath hitched when he felt the cold, damp air inside the room trickle his exposed manhood.

“Now, isn’t it much better to be honest with ourselves, Raphie boy? You sound pretty amazing when you’re in heat, so amazing that I can’t help but want to hear more…” Leo grinned as he teased, much to the restrained partner’s annoyance. Raph, unfortunately, was not given any chance to form a retort, however, for whatever witty and snarky comeback he was about to utter was silenced when he felt a sting of pain radiating through his body as Leo’s teeth sank into the sensitive skin of his neck - not enough to draw blood, but enough to make Raph succumb to his control. Unconsciously, his fingers curled up, and his teeth were grinded together.

Leo continued to toy around with Raphael’s neck, plastron and butt, deliberately ignoring his partner’s hard, throbbing penis where it lied pressed against Raphael’s stomach, silently demanding attention.

“Leo…” Raphael grunted, feeling his face heat up. The clothed terrapin paid him no mind, and instead, kept on exploring every bit and inch of the captured turtle’s body. His tongue jumped continuously from Raph’s neck, shoulder to his armpits. His left hand, in the meantime, ran up and down Raphael’s hip in light, feathery movements, sending chills and shudders up and down the captive’s nervous systems.

Raph could not think straight anymore. His pulse quickened. His breathing grew heavy and short. His muscles convulsed, his face was hot, and his throat felt dry. He was impatient, his neglected erection still throbbing against his stomach, but still, Leonardo made no move to touch it.

“Leo…” he tried again, louder, attempting to catch his brother’s attention. Again, his effort was for naught. Leonardo feigned ignorance and carried on with his work. The feelings seemed to intensify, becoming stronger and stronger to the point when it became almost unbearable.

“Leo!” Raph all but shouted, his pride forgotten. His green eyes opened and were greeted by Leo’s piercing blue ones. He frowned at the sight of that devious smirk on his leader’s face, but refrained from commenting on it.

“Yes?” asked Leo, still maintaining his façade of innocence.

“Just…just…” Raph tried to speak, but the fingers grazing his hole were making it difficult for him to think straight. The same could be said about the hand running up and down his thigh in random motions.

“Just what?” Leo asked once more, moving his face closer to the tied up terrapin. He then gave Raph’s lower lip a small, sensual bite, enjoying the gruff, throaty noise of protest the other made. “If you don’t speak up, I can’t hear you, Raphie.”

“Just…Ahhh!” Once again, Raphael’s sentence was cut short, this time by a new sensation originating from his butt. One of Leo’s fingers had gone in.

“Hmm, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what it is you want,” said the captor slyly. His lubed finger was pressed deeper and deeper inside his brother’s entrance, making the captive struggle in vain against his bond. “You need to be more specific than just grunts and growls, Raph. Otherwise we can be here all night long and you’re still bothered and horny. And trust me, I can do this all. Night. Long…”

“Jerk…” Raphael protested weakly before another cry escaped his lips, punctuated with the second finger that went inside his stretched entrance.

“Now, now, I warned you about your language, but it seems you insist on being stubborn…” Leo said briefly before he curled the fingers inside Raph. In an instant, all the tied down turtle could see in his vision were countless blurs and dots of white. His back arched, his head knocked back, and the loudest yell yet ripped through the air.     

“Hmm, looks like I hit a great spot there,” continued Leo, this time with a pronounced tinge of red forming on his face, standing in great contrast with the mask he was wearing. His breathing quickened as well as he studied Raph’s reactions. The normally strong-willed turtle was squirming under him, helpless and so utterly and delectably defenseless.

All of his muscles were flexed, and his entire body was covered from head to toe with glistening beads of sweats.  Oh how he wanted to just give up his control and devour Raph right then and there, but somehow, his darker side insisted that he continue until the end - until the last wall of Raphael’s defense was torn down completely.

Giving his brother’s neck another nibble, Leo spoke again.

“That looked like you felt really good back there, and it was an amazing sight to behold. Now let’s see if I can recreate it…Now let me see…where was it…”

“No…” was all Raphael could manage before his vision was clouded again by the whiteness. His tried to twist his body away, but the ropes stayed firm, pinning him in his spot. He was losing his mind to everything, Leo’s caresses, his sexual taunts, his teeth sinking into his flesh, his three fingers inside…And yet, his penis remained neglected, ignored, _painful_ …

After the third time of Leo hitting his secret sweet spot, Raph had had enough. He could not bear it anymore, and with a desperate tone, he shamelessly pleaded with his partner.

“Touch my dick!” he shouted, not even caring about his words anymore. The only thing he wanted was relief from the built-up tension. Nothing else mattered. “Let me come!” he yelled again and again, much to Leo’s extreme satisfaction and mirth. At last, he had made Raph beg – the victory he had been aiming for from the very beginning. But still, he wanted more.

“Care to repeat that?” Leo asked teasingly, earning himself a growl.

“Touch my dick, you jerk! Just touch it! Let me come already!” came the string of demands from the flustered partner. For emphasis, Raphael even willingly thrust his hips forward, his throbbing erection bobbing back and forth against the empty air, pre-cum dripping at the tip.

“And where’s the magic word, Raphie?”

Raph bit the inside of his cheeks and remained stubborn, hopelessly clinging to what was left of his enormous pride, all the while frowning and glaring intensely at his current dominator.

A forth touch against his sweet spot, another cry and Raph’s shaky defense was torn down completely.

“Please!” his forbidden word finally escaped his lips. His organ twitched again, needy, desperate for release.   

“Good. That wasn’t so hard now was it? And now, since you ask so very nicely…” Leonardo grinned devilishly, wetting his lips. Without any prior warning, he leaned down and put the entire length of Raphael’s penis inside his mouth and began to suck. The loud, almost deafening cries and moans that greeted his hearing were heavenly, satisfying, delightful…

“Le…o…Arghh! So…good…” Raphael moved his hips voluntarily, desiring more of that heat of his captor’s mouth, of that wetness of his captor’s tongue wrapping around his manhood, of the delightful and rhythmic sucking Leo was performing on him…He wanted to come. Oh, he wanted to come so badly, so very, very badly. His hips began to move on their own, all control lost.

“Almost…come…” Raphael grunted, feeling the certain coming of his climax, and he braced himself for it, eagerly and anxiously in his impatience.

But then, everything disappeared.

“Leo, you jerk!” Raph shouted again, outraged by his partner’s premature stop. “Stop screwing around and let me come already!”

“Hmm,” Leonardo, his shell facing Raphael’s vision, hummed thoughtfully but said nothing. Instead, he fetched the bottle of lubricant on the nightstand. “Now, now,” he chided, unfazed by the harsh glare coming from Raph’s stormy, warning eyes. “I’ve been saving the best for last here.”

The turtle in blue turned around, revealing his hard erection as well to his brother as well. In the same generous fashion as earlier, Leonardo applied the lube on his member, all the while putting on a brief solo play to further entice Raph. The naked terrapin’s penis twitched again, and his face was red as he watched his brother play with himself right in front of him, and yet, he was powerless to do anything.

“You are so, _so_ dead when my turn comes around, Leonardo…” he threatened, and like before, Leo was unaffected.

“Speaking of coming…” replied the leader as he approached his partner once more. In one swift motion, he lifted both of Raph’s feet up in the air, revealing the stretched hole in plain sight. “It’s time for the main course, I believe.”

“Just do it!”

“Sorry, Raphie, we don’t wear shoes,” the leader joked, and the captive growled, baring his teeth.  

Wasting no more time on delaying and making Raph agonized, Leo pressed his tip against the hole. And then…

“Oh my gosh!” Raph’s cry filled the entire room, followed by a series of unintelligible grunts and moans and all kinds of lewd noises produced by both turtles.

“You feel amazing, Raph…” Leo muttered, trembling, as he pushed harder, sending his penis deeper and deeper inside his brother’s butthole. “Gosh…”

“Move…For the sake of…Move, Leo!” Raph yelled, struggling uselessly to break free of his restraints. His hips buckled, and more pre-cum leaked out of his expose tip.

Leonardo complied and began. Rhythmic movements started slow as first before they picked up. Soon, the rhythm was lost, replaced by frantic, desperate thrusting motions. Various naughty noises continued to fill the soundproofed room, echoing loudly and amplifying immensely as they assaulted their hearing.

Rationality was forfeit to primal instincts.

“Oh my…I’m gonna come…Oh, I’m gonna come…” Raphael announced breathlessly, his eyes screwed tightly shut as he waited for the inevitable. Leo, on the other hand, just grunted and continued thrusting, harder and harder with each second that passed.

And then…The sensation that Raphael had been yearning for arrived. His penis twitched, and soon, a massive unloading of semen was seen. The climax was nothing short of spectacular and explosive. His essence flew every which way and landed on various places, but he could not care less how much of a mess he had just made; instead, his mind was still fixed on the absolute pleasure of his relief.

At last, it was over…

Or so he thought…

Both of Raphael’s eyes tore open as he felt movements again, thrusting hard into his entrance repeatedly. Still hypersensitive after his orgasm, Raph could not fight back the series of shocked and yells that came out of his mouth.   

“Leo!” he exclaimed and winced. “St…Stop…I…came…”

“But I didn’t,” muttered the hard and still horny leader. Then, despite Raphael’s protest, Leonardo continued thrusting and soon, he wrapped his hand around Raphael’s penis and began pumping it as well, forcing his restrained brother to descend toward the brink of ecstasy once more.

“Leo! Oh my gosh! Leo, I can’t…”

“Then don’t,” replied Leonardo with a grunt, “I’m gonna come…Oh my…”

In and out and in and out, Leonardo continued to keep his pace with his thrusting and his pumping. Both his and Raph’s faces were scrunched up in bliss, heavy pants coming out of their agape mouths. Raph’s mind was racing. His sensitive penis was being stroked while his hole was being ravaged…he could feel another climax approaching, and from the frantic movements Leo was making, he knew his partner, too, was close.

Five more thrusts later, Leonardo’s back arched and his grasp around Raph’s manhood squeezed tightly. Both turtles cried their each other’s name before they simultaneously ejaculated. A warm stream of liquid was released inside Raph, making him wince. More of his own thick cum draped over the seeds of his initial release and matted his plastron and face, but like before, he cared not.

Soon, the indescribable sensations of bliss and pleasure passed, and Leo disconnected himself from his brother, breathing heavily. His entire body was wholly soaked in his own perspiration.

“That…was incredible,” he spoke up, his words barely audible amidst his loud, needy gasps.

“Yeah…” Raph agreed as he sank deeper into the bed. His body was still quivering slightly in the aftermath. He then pulled weakly against his bonds and frowned at the soreness around his wrists.

“Untie me, would you?” he asked, and Leonardo, in his still groggy state, complied. It took a while, but his shaking fingers finally managed to undo the knots and let Raph’s arms free. Slowly and carefully, the naked turtle sat up. A brief cringe crossed his face when he was upright due to the pain from his backside, but he soon got over it. Absent-mindedly, Raph rubbed his sore wrists, trying to chase away the feelings of numbness. His eyes, however, were focused on Leo as the other stood next to the bed. 

“How are you feeling Raph?” asked Leonardo, but all he received was silence. Curious, he tried again, but out of the blue, two muscular hands shot forward and grabbed the two long tails of his mask. Leo was subsequently yanked down and within, seconds, found himself lying on top of his plastron with both hands behind his back, pinned in place by Raph’s iron-like hold.

“Raph!” he cried out in surprise, but his answer was ignored. Suddenly, light disappeared from his eyes, replaced by complete darkness. His signature mask now served as his blindfold. Before he could react to the unexpected turns of events, a restraint was wrapped and secured around both of his wrists, the rope biting into his skin and making him gasp.

“Raph!” Leo wiggled helplessly against his bond, and his head twisting around in hope of shaking off the makeshift blindfold. Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful. As a result, he failed to see a very scary, devious smile stretching across his younger brother’s face where he stood, his glowing green eyes shining ominously as they glared at his shell and exposed tail, a look of hunger and impatience apparent in them.

Raph reached down and yanked on Leo’s tail, hard, making the restrained turtle release a soft, stiffed moan of protest. The current captor then leaned down and placed his mouth near Leo’s face. His deep, vibrating voice sent chills and shudders spreading throughout Leo’s form.

“I’m feeling like _revenge_ is in order,” Raphael’s voice rumbled dangerously, emphasizing his intention and seriousness. “You made me come twice, and that is exactly what you’re gonna get in return. After all, it’s all fair, isn’t it, _dear_ _brother_?”

Leo could only gulp in response, half anxious half excited to find out what Raphael had in mind for his turn. One thing he knew for sure, though, was that it was not going to be a pleasant ride. 

In fact, this one was going to be quite a _bumpy_  journey…  


	20. Bonding (Leo x Raph - Round 2)

Left Out

Arc 2: Dancing Shadows

Chapter 20: Bonding (Leo x Raph – Round 2)

“Could you loosen the ropes a bit?” Leonardo asked with a small whine to his tone as he tried to move his wrists and knees in vain. The restraints placed around those areas were firm and strong, and perhaps a little too tightly done. Unconsciously, a cringe formed on Leo’s face as he felt the rough materials bite into his flesh, causing him to exhale sharply when a twinge of pain swept across his body.

His plea, unfortunately, was answered by the complete and nerve-wrecking lack of response from his captor. There was no sound whatsoever, not even a sign that Raph was even in the room.

After his latest words of threat and the less-than-pleasant treatment of his tail, Raphael had proceeded to take off his knee pads and wrap some more ropes around his thighs and lower legs, effectively making sure that both of his knees would be unable to unfold. Leo knew he was completely helpless and vulnerable as he lied uncomfortably on his shell in the bed, mostly naked with his mask around his eyes and the ropes securely tied around all of his four limbs, rendering him completely immobile, exposed and susceptible to everything his partner could think of without a single chance of fighting back.

“Darn it…” he muttered darkly as he tried in vain to see through his blindfold. “Raph, where the heck are you?” he asked again, feeling uneasy at the lack darkness, the silence and the peculiar lack of activity around him.  

After demonstrating his skills with the ropes, Raphael had backed away with a gruff, teasing chuckle before growing silent and since then, to Leo’s surprise and dread, his presence had seemingly vanished entirely from the chamber, leaving the blue-banded turtle tied up, blindfolded and distressed with anticipation.

Leonardo tried to wriggle free once more, his penis bobbing in according with each movement he made, throbbing excitedly all the while.

 _‘Where is he? Is he gonna get revenge on me by leaving me like this all night long? No, he’s horny, he has to get off…No, is he gonna bring Mikey and Donnie in here to see me in this humiliating state?’_ his mind, in the bout of frustration, ventured to the murkier parts of imagination, ‘ _No, that’s against the rules…But then again…Raph’s never been famous for following rules whatsoever…_ ’ Leo unconsciously swallowed an imaginary lump stuck inside his throat as he mentally pictured the dreadful, yet undeniably stimulating, image of being seen by the genius.

He could almost see it happening in reality. Donatello’s wide, brown eyes stared at his utterly helpless and restrained form, with both arms tied around his back, both of his knees bent and secured and both of his legs spread wide, revealing his member, flowing with pre-cum dripping down at the tip, and his back inviting butthole for ravishing. He swallowed his saliva again as more and more images entered his mind, unbidden. Donatello’s analytical eyes then slowly and meticulously taking in and committing to memory every single characteristic of his body…He was being violated.

Leo winced and grunted as his penis twitched again at the mental images wrought by his fantasies, standing up a bit before hitting against his stomach. In the darkness, he could feel the vaguely feeling of his own sticky, wet pre-cum connecting the tip of his manhood with his stomach, demanding to be caressed, to be held, to be stroked, to be sucked, to _explode_ and allow his seeds to shoot out.

And yet, he could find none of those things.

So that was Raph’s game plan – to completely and utterly annihilate his pride and rigid self-control, both of which Leo was eternally proud of and held in high regards. Another instinctual grunt left his parted, dry lips.

He did not know how much time had passed since Raph had tied him up and left him on the bed. But as the seconds continued to idly tick away, Leo’s mind continuously conjured more and more images of being seen by his brothers, fantasies of being touched when his guard was at its lowest, instances of being aroused verbally and more…He felt like his grip over his own self-control and sanity was slipping, _fast_.         

Raphael’s tactic was getting to him, Leo inwardly admitted, and he was completely susceptible to it.

 “Raphael! Quit fooling around!” Leo called his partner’s name again, his head wildly tossing and turning in an attempt to shake his makeshift blindfold off, but like his earlier attempts, his efforts were for all naught.

“Where are you, Raph? You can stop this now!” Leo, now frustrated by his urges and needs for release, increased the volume of his voice a little bit and tried to take advantage of his current heightened sense of hearing to detect his brother. Sadly for him, the other turtle had entered stealth mode, and absolutely no trace of his presence could be sensed.

Leonardo continued to wriggle against the rope again and again in his agitated state. Much like the mask shadowing his vision, the ropes around his arms and legs refused to budge in the slightest, and with every move he made, he only succeeded in causing himself more pain as the rough exterior of the restraints bit harder and harder into his sensitive flesh.

 _“That’s gonna leave a few marks tomorrow…”_ he thought wryly with a cringe and a soft gasp as another pang of pain was felt, simultaneously radiating from all of his tied up appendages. The still, dreaded veil of silence continued to drag on, wrapping around him like a thick, uncomfortable blanket.

And in the middle of the maddening tranquility and darkness, Leo’s anxious and impatient mind continued to race, more and more scandalous and licentious images appearing, unbidden, uninvited, yet all so rousing. His pulse quickened. His breathing sped up. His movements grew frantic. His hips began to move forward on their own, humping the empty air in search for something… _anything_ that could get the tension off.

Suddenly, a sound was heard, soft and quiet, but against the still and deathly silence, it was crystal clear. Unmistakably, it was the sound of the door opening, Leo’s mind told him. However, he also knew the movement was made in deliberation, for he knew _his_ door would only creak against its hinges when it was pushed open with a certain amount of force and to a certain width.

A presence was felt. Someone had entered the room. And their eyes were watching him squirm in bed, futilely wrestling against his bounds. A low, humored chuckle was elicited, and in an instant, Leo knew who his visitor was.

“Raph!” the turtle in blue barked in aggravation as he whipped his head toward the source of the sounds. “Quit fooling around!” he added, but once more, silence was his response. Leo panted heavily, his face flushed. He could still feel the stares, intent, unwavering, _hungry_.  

After a brief moment of reprieve, the sounds of bare feet paddling along the floor entered his hearing. They got louder and louder and louder and louder as they approached his bed, and then, silence returned. Leo turned his head around and tried to glare at the clear, intimidating presence next to him. The silent stares grew harder and more intense up close. In his mind, he could almost see Raph looking down at him, a wide, conniving smirk stretching across his face, delighted to enjoy seeing him in his heated predicament.

“Raphael!” Leo shouted again, “I demand you…Mmm…” the rest of his sentence was reduced to gibberish noises when a large, rough hand covered his mouth. Hard as he tried to wiggle free, he could not. The presence got closer and closer until hot puffs of breath could be felt, tickling his neck and causing shudders to creep down his spine. He shivered with excitement of uncertainty.

“Shh,” a voice whispered softly against his the side of face – Raphael’s voice. A wet object flicked across his heated cheek for a brief second before the whisper returned. “You may want to keep your voice down a bit, Leo. After all, you wouldn’t want anyone else to hear you now, would you?”

Leonardo’s eyes widened in shock behind his blindfold. Impossible, his mind protested, the room was soundproofed, so nobody could hear anything…Unless…

“I left the door open,” the ghostly, teasing whisper added, followed by another lick and then, a bite against his neck. Leo’s body went rigid in an instant the moment the statement was made. His head knocked back, sinking lower into the bed. He could feel his breaths make contact with the rough hand silencing him. His face felt hot. His eyes widened, filled with fear.

And then, the pressure on his lips was removed, allowing him to speak again.

“You’re bluffing!” he fervently retorted, but still mindful to keep his voice low, barely audible. “You wouldn’t dare…” he added, but the conviction that he had been so clumsily forced into his statement was more geared toward trying to convince himself of what he had just said rather than contradict what his partner had just told him. Raphael, on the other hand, looked at his brother’s paler-than-normal complexion and trembling lips. A dark chuckle of satisfaction rumbled from his throat.

“And how do you know that, hmm?” asked the captor as he slowly, tantalizingly slid one hand along his captive’s plastron, making the latter flinch sharply in response to every inch that was touched by the light caress. Leo’s manhood twitched again, trying to gather the attention of the captor. Unfortunately, what Leo had done earlier was being done to him, only Raph had taken things to a more extreme degree. The hand tracing Leo’s body skipped the delicious and needy member on purpose and continued its journey along the muscular thigh.   

At the same time, Raph’s free hand was drawing circles around Leo’s butthole. The simultaneous stimulations were gradually getting to Leo’s mind, and he found himself breathing hard and sweating profusely, appearing as though he had just been subjected to the most rigorous of training regimes.

“Raph…touch…there….” he spoke up, his voice shaky and weak. His words were mixed among the short intakes and exhalations of air in between. He turned his head toward his captor, but could not see anything due to his blindfold. Raphael smiled wickedly as he continued his treatments, slowly yet consistently chipping away at Leo’s defensive wall. His touches were like acid, slowly yet surely corroding the iron-like control that his brother was so proud of and then dissolving it into oblivion. It was payback, and oh, it was utterly sweet and satisfying – better than he had expected – to see the uptight and disciplined leader crumble underneath him, reduced to a mess of horny but agonizingly denied teen.

Leo shivered again as Raph’s hand changed course, going back from his ankle to his thigh again. The tortured penis was still untouched, neglected still. Even though he had tried to move his hips forward multiple times, Raphael had ignored his silent pleas, much to his dismay.

His rationality was quickly deserting him, and Leo knew it well. The functions and control over his own body were no longer his own anymore. He was entirely at the other’s mercy, and to his horror, mercy was the one thing Raphael had never been associated with, or at the very least, very rarely so.

And tonight, Raph was in his sadistic mood.

The turtle in bondage opened his mouth once again to call his partner’s name, but the very moment his lips parted, three beefy fingers were shoved inside, forcing his mouth open wide.

“I ain’t using no lube down there, so make sure you give it your best performance and lick ‘em good, Fearless, or else you’re gonna be really, _really_ hurt later on,” Raphael exclaimed as he shoved his digits deeper down his brother’s throat. Leo made unintelligible noises of protest and gagged for a while at the fingers inside his mouth, wiggling and touching his tender inside. Before long, all three digits were soaked in a fine coating of saliva, and Raph apparently seemed pleased when he took his hand back.

The poor bound turtle’s breathing quickened even further, his face flushed in a nice, ripe shade of red. A shimmering line of drool came out of his mouth and attached itself to his torso. Raphael could tell that Leo was already on his last leg, and even his strong mental strength would soon run out.  

“How are you feeling, brother?” Raph asked cheekily after he planted a kiss against his partner’s lips. When Leo opened his mouth in an attempt to reply, he suddenly found his mouth invaded once more, not by fingers but by a foreign tongue this time. The wet kiss deepened and grew passionate, needy, desperate, increasing in intensity as time passed.

At the same time, Raph brought his saliva-coated fingers to Leonardo’s butthole. Without warning, one finger was thrust inside. Leo’s back arched and he broke the kiss. His head bobbed backward violently, which inadvertently allowed Raph unrestricted access to his chin, neck and throat.

“Oh…my…I can’t…” Leo’s words turned into hisses and moans, and due to his lack of vision, the feelings were doubled. The intense sensations radiating from different parts of his body were like a powerful wave sweeping through his ability to form coherent thoughts. Leo’s form convulsed against the ropes in vain.                         

“Strike one,” he vaguely heard Raph’s voice penetrating through his blurry hearing, and his mouth acted on its own, stammering out the name of his dominator in hope that the latter would finally show him mercy.

Unfortunately, Raphael was rather vindictive. After another quick bite on his partner’s neck, he pressed another finger against Leo’s hole and then…

“Strike two!”

The deafening and ecstatic wail of the leader ripped sharply though the air almost instantaneously.

“Oh, and if I remember correctly, Leo,” Raphael whispered again, tickling his brother’s face with his hot breath, “You like to lead with scissors, so…”

“Ahhh!” shouted the captive as he felt his inside being stretched by the other’s two fingers. Pain mixed with pleasure, and in his hazy state of mind, he did not even know which was which anymore. The most intelligent sounds he could elicit at that moment were senseless mumbles, growls, grunts and, of course, frantic moans – streams after streams. Raphael smirked conceitedly, delighted that those wondrous sounds were produced exclusively by and for him alone.

“Raph…I…need to…” Leonardo tried to reason with his brother before the last remaining shred of reasons within him ultimately deserted him as well. Raph, however, had other plan in mind. The hand not stretching Leo’s butt was shot forward and pressed against his lips once more, silencing his speech.

“Shh, now, now,” Raph spoke again, “You’re not out yet, Leo, not before strike three…” he then watched as Leo’s head shake frantically, muffed noises of various natures fought to bypass his hand yet failed to.

“And speaking of which…”Raphael paused a little to wet his lips, hunger shown in his eyes as they travelled to Leonardo’s painfully throbbing erection. More and more pre-cum was leaking out from the tip of Leo’s penis, pooling at the spot where the tip met the captured turtle’s stomach. Leo’s shaking increased, and then…

“Strike three!” Raphael exclaimed as he pressed the last finger inside and released Leo’s mouth. The cry that followed was absolutely musical to him, and that cry alone was more than enough to make his own penis stand up at attention, hard and ready. “And you’re out, Fearless.”

“Please fuck me! Let me come! Let me come!” Leonardo shouted in desperation, no longer caring who could hear him anymore. He wanted relief, he wanted to shoot, he wanted Raph’s penis inside him, ramming against him with all the muscular turtle had to offer, and he wanted all of it now. Everything else was secondary, trivial, _insignificant_.  

“Woah,” said Raph, amused by what had just escaped his rigid brother’s mouth, “Now what happened to censorship?”

“Just do me, Raph! I can’t take it anymore…Please…” Leo continued before his voice was reduced to a pathetic whimper. And it was exactly what Raph had been hoping to see – sweet, wicked, delicious revenge. And oh, that felt great.

“Okay, Lewd-nardo,” said the dominator as he took his fingers out and reached for something else below where Leo was lying, something which he had prepared beforehand during his mysterious absence. He picked up the soft, yellow object and the bottle of lube nearby. Then, Raphael poured a generous amount inside the emptied out content of the yellow object.

Leo, still blindfolded, could not see anything. And that, of course, made him all the more desperate. A small portion of his rationality had returned during the brief interval, barely enough to make out what was being said to him.  

“Before I screw you into the mattress, I want you to meet someone, Leo,” Raph’s voice spoke up all of the sudden, and Leonardo’s skin paled a few shades. His trembling increased.

 _‘Oh my gosh, someone else was inside the room? And that someone had seen how he crumbled underneath the pressure? Humiliating!’_ his mind chided, and his pathetic shaking intensified accordingly. Raphael chuckled again at his brother’s reaction, his darker, more sadistic side taking over.

“Relax, it’s just Mr. Banana Peel,” he said in jest, and the look of pure confusion that crossed Leonardo’s face was hilarious and rewarding to behold. “You know, bananas have lots of uses, you cut off one end of the fruit, squeeze the content out, have a small snack while your partner’s withering alone, tied up and horny, keep the longer part of the skin, apply some lube inside and then _boom_ , a perfect fleshlight at your disposal. Nifty, huh?”

“Wha…” Leo tried to get a sentence out, but once again, his control over his own vocal cords shut down when he felt something soft, tight, cold and so wonderfully wet covering his entire impatient shaft. Leo lifted his head up to see, but the makeshift blindfold rendered the effort moot.

The weight of the bed shifted, and soon, both of the tied-up turtle’s legs were pushed upward, his stretched and wet hole shown in full view.

“Ready or not, here I come, Leo,” Raph warned briefly before he carried it out. At first, the tip of the dominator was pressed against Leo’s entrance, making him wince and gasp. And then, it went in, inch by inch, slowly and easily until everything was inside. Their pleasure was shown by the mixed grunts and churrs that simultaneously left their agape mouths.

“M-Move…Raphie…” the blue-clothed turtle whispered breathlessly, and for the first time since the session began, Raphael was more than willing to comply with the leader’s request.

As he pushed his penis deeper inside Leonardo’s butt, the hand holding the makeshift banana-skinned fleshlight moved as well, punctuating its movements with every thrust he made.

The plethora of sensations whirling through his mind and being was indescribably at that moment. The feelings of Raph’s penis drilling in and out of his behind combined with the strong stroking motions around his own erection effectively made Leo lose himself to ecstasy, to pleasure unimaginable.

Who would have thought he would be done in by a banana peel? And yet, here he was, crying and moaning and grunting aloud shamelessly while his penis was being swallowed by the lubed up peel and his hole was being ravaged by Raph’s rock-hard manhood. The sensitive tip of his penis hit the end of the skin over and over again, forcing his mind to unconsciously create the fantasy-like illusion that he was drilling someone else – someone with big, intelligent brown eyes and an endearing gap-toothed smile…Oh, it was heavenly, the feelings… And being blindfolded and tied up only served to arouse and stimulate him and his senses even further. Leo knew for sure he would not last long at this rate, and as to be expected, his climax was approaching.

“Raph…I’m gonna…I…come…coming…soon…” he announced, but his partner only grunted as he, too, was nearing his release.

Motivated by his own urges, Raph picked up the pace with both his humping and stroking. Faster and faster his hips and hand went. Naughty noises and heavy pants left their lips unrestrained, unobstructed. Both of their eyes screwed shut, and their entire beings felt like they were being submerged amidst a maelstrom of pure, fantastical pleasure.  

“Coming!” the two shouted heatedly as they both unloaded their seeds at the same time. Leo’s penis was soon covered in his own essence, dripping out of the opening of the banana skin and pooling at his base. His backside, too, was full, filled to the brim with Raph’s hot, thick semen.

The feelings of their post-orgasm wrecked their bodies, and when it was all over, Leo felt a hand undo his mask. His eyes squinted, temporarily unused to the transition from complete darkness to light, but soon, the adjustment was complete. Leonardo looked at Raphael for a moment before they both smiled, satisfied with the experience. It had been strange, rough, and utterly enjoyable for both.

“That was the best one yet…” Raphael commented as he untied his brother, his movements sluggish and his stance groggy from exhaustion.

“Agreed, we should do this more often…” replied Leo with a small, tired smile decorating his face. They were both dirty, but in their drained state, neither could care less how much of a mess they had created. Only rest mattered.

“Yeah…if you’re that…eager to get…fucked by…fruits…” Raph tried to form a snarky retort, but his voice trailed off toward the end. And as soon as the last rope came undone, the naked turtle fell onto the bed and asleep almost instantaneously. Soft snores were heard soon after, much to Leo’s amusement.

The leader removed the rest of his gears as well and uncharacteristically tossed them onto the floor unceremoniously. Soon, he was lying on his shell with his hand across his forehead inside the enclosed and private space of his tranquil bedroom. The memories of what had just transpired played themselves over and over again in his hazy, sleepy mind.

And at last, with a content smile gracing his lips, Leonardo, too, accepted the inviting, irresistible allure of sleep, his body melted into its embrace and gone limp. His eyes fluttered, half-closed.

“For the record, Raph…I won…” muttered Leo absentmindedly, mere seconds before his blue eyes disappeared behind his lids, and he at long last relinquished the last of his feeble consciousness to the darkness.    


	21. Tag

Left Out

Act 2: Dancing Shadows

Chapter 21: Tag

Morning came earlier than any of the teenage resident of the lair would have liked, signaled by the blaring noises of alarm clocks going off as soon as the hands of time fell on exactly six o’clock sharp. In each room – Donnie’s personal bedroom, Leo’s room and the lab – the teenagers roused awake. For a family of ninjas, one would think that the full-fledged practitioners would be among the earliest one to assemble in the kitchen. That was only half right in this case.

The very first to arrive were Michelangelo and Donatello, followed by Casey and April, both of whom had turned in early the night before upon the completion of their tutoring session. Lastly and shockingly, evident by the four pairs of eyes – two widened in sheer bewilderment and the other two in understanding and something else akin to amusement - that were directed at them, Leonardo and Raphael walked into the eating area with heavy steps. There was also a noticeable limp in the way the normally serious and rigid leader was walking, which only served to further fuel the confusion and blatant curiosity in Casey and April.

Worried, the girl stepped forward a little and took a closer look at the blue-banded friend, her eyes narrowed analytically as they meticulously took in the subtle differences in his posture. “Are you okay, Leo?” she, always the perceptive type, asked, genuine concern lacing her every word.

“I’m fine,” came the instant reply from the addressed, accompanied by a small smile for extra reassurance.

“You seem tired,” the red-headed teen went on, her blue, piercing eyes still studying him closely, appearing as though they could easily breach through whatever mental block the other ninja could conjure and gaze into the deepest soul and mind of the sword-swinging terrapin. That made Leo wince, internally. “Did you have a rough night yesterday?” she pressed on.

“Yeah,” Raph, never one to resist a chance for a quick jab of fun at his brothers’ expenses, chimed in this time, a sly and mysterious smile dominating his facial features as he spoke. “ _Rough_ seems to be the right word to describe his situation alright.”

“What?”  asked Casey, his head tilted to one side, confused still.

“Nothing!” Leo answered, vehemently, “Nothing at all. It’s just that I accidentally spilled some liquid onto the bed and…I had to spend the rest of the night on the floor. Not exactly the comfiest place for a turtle to sleep as you can probably imagine,” he continued on with his impromptu excuse, though it was not entirely a lie, for his code of honor forbade him from committing such a heinous and dishonorable act among allies and comrades. He and Raphael had, truthfully, woken up in the early morning due to the uncomfortable stickiness on the bed, the tightness of the shared bed and the uncomfortable heat caused by the sweats of their bodies from their sessions, and both had subsequently opted to while the night away on the cool yet hard concrete floor.

 _It’s not lying. It’s just…withholding information, yes, that’s right…I’m telling the truth, just not the entire truth_ , Leonardo, haunted by his ethical codes of conducts almost to the point of paranoia, desperately tried his best to convince himself of the fact, but internally, he was wincing and already ready for a long meditation session to rid his mind of the guilt.

His blue eyes travelled back to his human companions and gauged their reactions. Casey seemed to buy his explanation, for the boy turned away immediately afterward in favor of attending to his bowl of cereals before him. April, to his dismay, appeared obviously skeptical. The narrowing of her eyes, the downward curve at the corners of her lips and the way one of her brow was raised questioningly all pointed toward the fact that she was definitely on to something. The exact details of her discovery were, unfortunately, not disclosed.

The leader’s eyes were then directed toward his other brothers, only to narrow in annoyance at the blatant, unconcealed signs of mischief adorning the youngest’s visage. Baby blue eyes eagerly received and defiantly challenged his warning glare, further mocking him with a not-so-subtle glint of humor and mirth radiating from those depths, much to Leonardo’s increasing irritation. Raphael, as he could tell with a brief backward glance, appeared completely unabashed, and the red-clad ninja even returned Mikey’s meaningful look with a smug smirk. _Probably at my expense_ , Leo thought and groaned inwardly again before he moved on.

Blue locked with reddish brown.

And Leo had to bite back a sigh as he peered straight into the warm, concern-filled chocolate depths of the resident genius. Just the mere presence of them and the message they seemed to silently convey through the serene, tranquil gaze were more than enough to force the sense of annoyance and tiredness dissipate into the air. Swiftly, his scowl was reversed, the curved turning the opposite direction within seconds, and Leo greeted Donnie with a small smile. Satisfied, the other returned the gesture before sitting down at last, ready to dig into his morning helping nutrition before practice.

Leonardo, feeling like a turtle replenished, joined his family and friends on the table. He promptly ignored the critical and infuriatingly indiscernible manner with which Michelangelo had been studying him and Donatello as well as their wordless exchange.

“So April,” asked Donnie, his voice banishing the silence, “How went your tutoring session with Avocado Brain here?” he added and gestured teasingly toward Casey, who was quick to react with a frown, but the girl could tell it was void of any real hard feelings, only a shallowly concealed sense of playfulness.

April had to stifle a giggle _, boys will be boys_ , she reasoned mentally before she answered Donatello’s inquiry, “Actually, Donnie, Casey proves to be a very fast learner, and we managed to cover three chapters in one night.” Then, in a mocking voice not unlike one Donatello had employed, she added, glancing at her human friend, “Imagine my surprise.”

Mikey, sitting next to Don, did just that and made a face, complete with eyes and mouth widely open and his back stretched. A dramatic gasp was also added for emphasis.  

“Hey!” the human teen cried, a highly exaggerated expression mimicking one of indignation forming on his face as he looked at April. “I’m smart, you know. Who do you think built my own versatile bike _and_ helped Bonehead there build the Turtle Racer? Me, Casey Jones, that’s who!”

“Yeah, you mean handling him the tools he asked for, I’m sure your assistance was _immense_ ,” Raph retorted sarcastically and smirked.

“What is this, ganging up on Casey Jones day?” cried the human, half amused but mostly annoyed.

“We should really make it official,” Mikey chimed in, “And by the power bestowed upon me, I hereby declare this day be known as…Ooh, good morning sensei,” his voice trailed off as he spotted master Splinter standing at the entrance, looking at all of them sternly.

“I would suggest you finish your breakfast soon, my sons. For training begins in half an hour. You do not want to exercise immediately after eating. As for April and Casey, you have school to attend, do not be late.”

“Hai, sensei,” the assembled teenagers chorused. With a warm smile on his face, master Splinter nodded and turned to leave for the dojo, a faint noise of chuckling rumbling in his throat at the thoughts were taken over by ones of his strange yet happy family. The smile faltered, for the clan was still one member short from completion…

“Miwa…I wish you were here right now, among your brothers and friends…” the former human muttered privately as he disappeared into the dojo and slid the door shut.

Back in the kitchen, the teens had heeded their teacher’s suggestion, and within the span of five minutes, everything on the table was cleaned. Casey and April fetched their bags and bid everyone goodbye before they left for school. The turtles saw them off.

The exact moment when the two humans were out of sight and earshot, Michelangelo instantly whipped his head around to face the oldest turtles, a Chesire-like grin already stretching his lips apart.

“So…” he prompted.

“What?” both Raph and Leo cried simultaneously, the former irked by the pleading look on Mikey’s face while the latter feeling the return of his annoyance.

“ _Rough_ , huh…” said the youngest cheekily, eyes sparkling with curiosity, “Give me the _juicy_ details…like, I don’t know…who got to top for example.”

Leo, as observed by Donnie, appeared somewhat uncomfortable at the orange-clad ninja’s prying. However, that discomfort was swiftly replaced by irritation once more, and Leo bit back, defensive.

“What about you, Mikey?” he asked, changing the subject and putting Mikey in the spot light, “What were you doing in private with Don last night?”

“Giving his _big boy_ a ride to the wild side, and it was quite a _blast_ , ending with an _explosive_ finale,” answered Mikey without a single shred of shame that practically shocked and embarrassed the genius at the same time and stunned the others to speechlessness. A prominent shade of red formed on his face, and Donatello moved backward way, avoiding the wide-eyed looks that the oldest turtles were giving him. _Oh gosh, Mikey and his big mouth,_ the genius chastised and covered his mouth with his hands.

“So, you didn’t…” Leo asked.

“Nope, he’s still one-hundred percent a virgin. There’s no way I’ll force him when he’s not fully ready yet. Now then, enough about me, what about you? Tell me everything! Spill it, dudes, or I’ll find out myself, one way or another,” Mikey warned, half in jest and half in seriousness.

Leo and Raph looked at each other briefly before they both nodded, coming to a silent understanding with one another, before they turned back to the ecstatic turtle before them. Leo coughed politely into his hand and started, his voice authoritative, “Practice’s starting. Let’s go.”

The two oldest turtles then headed toward the dojo as fast as their feet could carry them. Mikey, as to be expected, was persistent to no end. He swiftly took after his brothers and continuously demanded them to give up the finer details of their night the previous night.

“Come on,” Mikey whined insistently and boisterously, “We have, like, ten more minutes! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!”

His voice continued to echo loudly and clearly throughout the entire lair even after his form was gone from view, leaving only Donnie alone at the entrance, blushing all the more madly and heatedly at the youngest ninja’s latest comment about him still retaining his claim over the only V card available in the lair. It took a few more minutes for his brain to process the words. Once he had managed to overcome the initial embarrassment brought by that offhanded remark, Donatello, no fuming with exasperation, cried the name of his youngest brother crossly. He, too, quickly made to follow the others toward the dojo.

And for once, Donatello the genius was uncharacteristically looking forward to the chance of knocking the self-proclaimed nunchuck master down, and this time, he mentally vowed, no mercy would be shown. _Mikey, you’d better watch out._   

…

Casey and April, having already memorized most of the strategic locations of the various manholes scattered around the city by heart by now, chose to make their trip underground for better security. The Foot had eyes and ears everywhere, especially now that the Kraang’s invasion was over. Also, moving underground meant that they would not run into many people or obstacles, allowing for faster travel and at the same time, honing their ninja skills. It was killing two birds with one stone.

“Hey Casey,” April began, calling after the boy running before her.

“Yeah, Red?”

“Did you notice the strange behaviors in all of the guys this morning? I mean, Mikey and Raph were normal enough, but there was something about Don and especially Leo that…I don’t know, poked at my curiosity a bit.”

“Oh come on, April,” Casey spoke and laughed, “The guy just spent an entire night on the concrete floor, and him being a turtle, I don’t suppose that sleeping arrangement worked out well in his favor, so give him some slacks, would you?”

“Yeah, but when we spoke earlier,” April’s voice grew soft and her face assumed a thoughtful expression as she moved, “I sensed…something in him. But I couldn’t fully discern it, for his mental block was strong. But I definitely felt something…awkward and…”

“And?”

“I don’t know, I couldn’t get further than that. But it was something private, I could tell, so I left it at that,” April admitted, but the unusual, never-before-seen stiffness in the posture in the blue-banded leader was unnerving and worrying for her. She liked all the turtles and considered them all her best friends, so of course, she had the right to feel concerned for their welfare.

Casey, darting a brief look at the red-headed girl, spoke up. “I’m sure they’re fine, April. Just a rough night and all. You know, discovering the existences of and having to fight against their evil twins…Even for their already bizarre life standards, that was crazy.”

“…I guess you’re right,” April relented, and the rest of the trip was spent in silence, though it was not at all uncomfortable.         

Approximately fifteen minutes later, the duo at last reached the manhole they had been aiming for, located inside an empty and obscured corner of the street and, as a direct bonus, extremely close to their school.

Jumping out and making sure that the coast was clear, Casey then helped haul April up and closed the hole behind them. Once done, they made their way inside, together.

“Alright then,” said the boy, his bag slinging on his shoulder casually, “I’ll see you later tonight, same time, okay, Red.”

“Sure, Casey,” April replied with a smile as she unlocked her locker. With a satisfied nod, Casey walked toward his class, hoping to catch a few more minutes of much-need sleep before the first period began.

April, still eyeing her human friend’s retreating back, opened the locker. She then reached inside to fetch her textbook on the top of the pile for her first subject, but then, her fingers grazed something smooth, definitely not the rough exterior of the gigantic book she was used to carrying around.

Curious, April turned her head and peered into her locker for the first time since arriving. Her eyes caught sight of a neatly folded and pristine envelope mysteriously lying on top of her pile of textbooks. Bewildered, April reached out and grabbed it, inspecting it closely.

The envelope was addressed specifically to her, but there was no name written on the back. Immediately, her inquisitiveness peaked. And at the same time, as her fingers opened the seal, she felt a wave of worry washing over her, irrationally so, she realized, but still, the feeling was strong, nagging, virtually impossible to ignore. Slowly, carefully, the seal was broken open, and in the same tentative fashion, April reached for the content inside. The haunting sense of trepidation inexplicably bubbling inside her chest intensified with each idly passing second. And then, that veil of anxiety was justified at last, with a shockingly horrible realization, when her fingers pulled out a single photo tucked inside. Irrational worry shifted to utter shock before it subsequently materialized as realized terror within the span of five brief seconds.

“No…” a breathy mutter escaped her trebling lips as her wide, disbelieving eyes stared intently at the photo she was holding. Unconsciously, her hands started trembling, nearly dropping the picture in her grasp. “No…No…please gosh, no…Not again…”

There, captured and forever frozen in time, was the image of her dad, knocked out and tightly bound to a chair inside their apartment. On the wall behind him, various crisscross scratches that appeared to have been carved carefully and painstakingly onto the surface mangled the aged materials, heavily scarring the broad area. The numerous marks took over the entirety of the tortured wall, and they joined together to form a message, or rather, a taunt, its meaning transparent. 

 _Tagged! You’re it!_ the message read. April did not know how much time had passed since she opened the envelope. Students were flooding in, chatting excitedly with each other, but she paid them no mind, for hers was already frozen, wrapped tightly by fear and terror for her father’s safety.

Her trance was only shattered abruptly when the bell of the school rang. She snapped out of her stupor-like state with a start and saw that she was the only one still occupying the hall. Shoving the picture into her bag, April then reached for her T-phone and speed dialed the first name on the contact list, not caring who would pick up.

A voice answered after two rings – _Splinter_.

“April, I’m afraid my sons are currently engaged at the moment. Is there…” the rat began, but April, in her haste, forwent her formality and cut in.

“Master Splinter, my dad…my dad…” said the distraught girl, her syllables mixed with trembling gasps and hiccups, desperately holding on to what was left of her self-control and trying not to break down and lash out again.

The other line was silent for a second, before master Splinter spoke once more. “Come back to the lair now, April, we shall discuss things in details there. I have already sent Leonardo and Raphael to the manhole near your school. Do not leave the building until they arrive. If possible, please get mister Jones as well. We may be in need of his assistance as well.”

“Yes…” was her weak reply before she pressed stop. After sending Casey an urgent message to meet her at the lair, April gathered her bag and made a mad dash for the restroom to avoid getting caught by the teachers. Once she was safely behind the locked door of a private booth, April finally allowed herself to breakdown, allowing the silent teardrops to fall.

Exactly seven minutes later, her phone vibrated inside her pocket, and April silently exited the building. Once she arrived in the same empty corner, Casey, Leo and Raph were already there. Wordlessly, all four jumped down and headed back to base, no questions asked yet.

But from one look at the girl, the boys knew whatever had happened was grimly serious, and they did not like it. Not one bit.       


	22. Hide and Seek

Master Splinter, as calm as ever even when faced with the direst of perils, delicately held the letter between his fingers and went over the image of his acquaintance knocked out cold in his own apartment along with the childlike message enclosed. His eyes focused on the photo in search of hidden clues present within the taken frame due to his inability to be at the crime scene, yet his ears, sharp and ever precise, never failed to miss the whispered reassurances the boys were offering their friend.

“Hey now, April,” he heard Leonardo say softly and tactfully, and even without looking, Splinter could almost imagine his son in blue kneeling in front of the distressed girl on the couch in a true chivalric fashion that would, in all manners fathomable, have done the sternest among the medieval knights of old pride untold. He was speaking to her in a hushed yet resolute tone, offering as much security as he could at the moment.

Security, not hollow words meant to be uttered and whisked away by the whimsical gusts.  “We’ll find him for you, alright. I promise. Everything’s going to be okay in the end.”

It was then that another voice entered his ears, this one brasher and rougher.

Raphael’s was, naturally and as to be expected, more pronounced with threats and less refined with words, for they were ever so rarely preserved for comforts, at least not in the most direct manner perceivable. His way with comforting was through the use of promises of violence, vowing that misdeeds be exacted for misdeeds done. And to the transgressors, the repercussions of their wrongs would be painful should… _when_ he found them. Raph’s voice was as always, rough and raw and rambunctiously loud and perpetually filled with a burning, passionate flare of determination which neither offered fraud resolutions nor conveyed false hope.

“And when we do,” said the turtle in red as he smacked his fist into his palm for emphasis, “Those clones will wish they had never been born! I’ll…”

“Raph, please, tone down on the anger a notch, and in case you have forgotten, we don’t stoop that low with our conducts, remember? Codes of honor? Hands off the taking of lives, etcetera, etcetera! Not that I condone with our clones’ growing list of committed felonies, but we need to remember the little fact that we’re not a bunch of barbaric brutes who solve things by rushing into them and hoping that it would go away,” chided Donatello as he fiddled with his T-phone in the background, allowing his other brothers to comfort the human friends while he was immersed in his own work. The others, however, did not seem to notice that at the moment, for their attention was largely upon the human friends.

Quick to comical feats of hysteria and impatience though he was at times, the boy genius knew when to keep his head straight, his thoughts organized with perfect clarity and his tasks prioritized in terms of urgency. In the same voice which carried an easily recognizable sense of cultured eloquence and conviction much like Splinter’s own, though lacking the latter’s philosophical and spiritual notions in his own manners of articulation, the genius tore his eyes away from the handheld device and allowed his eyes to train on the teenage girl - a soft and soothing gaze it was, and it was one that somewhat relieved a large portion of the girl’s accumulated distress.

 “And April,” he continued again, offering a small smile, “They were definitely after you last night for your DNA, so I’m guessing this abduction is most likely a scheme to get to you to show up again. In that case, your father’s wellbeing would be placed very high on the top of their list for the time being, so I’m sure he’ll probably fine.”

His words struck and stuck, and Donatello offered his friend a toothy smile when he spotted a ghost of one spreading on her face. The light in April’s eyes returned, but the moist was still present, yet restrained, like a dam threatening to break under pressure but still persistently fighting to keep the current within.

Splinter’s lips broke into a secretive grin away from sight, and predictably, he heard the youngest speak up, his voice sounding like optimism given shape and form itself. Only then did Donnie allow his attention to return to the screen of his T-phone.

“Dudes are right, April!” exclaimed the ninja in orange in a loud, reverberating voice, hands thrown in the air and face split in a giddy grin that lit up the place. “Everything’s gonna be alright! Just wait and see. The ultimate ninjas will show their might, that’s a promise we give thee!”

“And shut up, _please_!” said Raph.

“Hey, that rhymes! Maybe we can work out a few poems and sell them online in our free time! Whoop, another rhyme, I’m on a roll today! Baby!” Mikey chirped excitedly with all the innocence normally found in a child instead of a teenager. His antics and constant shifting about, both physically and topic-wise, proved to be a great distraction (a source of mirth for the friends, irks for the brothers, amusement for the father, and general relief for all), for soon, April had to giggle a little, clearly humored. 

Raph, in response, rolled his eyeballs and sorted. However, April and even Casey nearby could spot a very subtle formation of something akin to a grin at the corner of his lips before it was banished altogether from his scowling face – too quickly for any conformation, so the humans chalked it up to the dim lighting of the lair and left it at that without pressing the issues further.

“In any case,” spoke the master, and in an instant, all eyes were upon him as he took center stage amidst his students and sons, his expression conveying calmness and zen that had been forged with age and wisdom, and his voice was, as always, silky and smooth, and the words which were spun could easily dispel even the most persistent of worries and forced them into submission within the addressed.

“For the time being, April and Casey, you two should remain in hiding here and take some needed time to come up with some believable excuses to give to your teachers and friends. We do not wish to drag curious innocents into this chaos if possible.”

“Yes, sensei,” replied April and Casey at the same time. April paused for a while, and the she looked up. Though her concern had been greatly appeased, it was not wholly banished.

“But I cannot stay in hiding while those…those…”

“Freaks? Monsters?” supplied Casey, and subsequently, he found himself the target of a rather painful strike to his rib by the girl and a heated glare directed at him by the same girl. “What?”

“Casey,” muttered April through clenched teeth as she darted a subtle glance at the turtles, “That’s not the nicest thing to say.”

“It’s alright, April,” replied Leo with a small, polite smile – arguably one of the best and most charming PR smiles ever performed by the leader in blue which she had ever laid eyes upon, and it was one of such radiance that any traces of untrue sentiments felt by the turtles would have been shoved back and tightly locked amid the lightless abyss cast by its charming light outward. “Those clones are without a doubt monsters for what they did. Burning down houses, trying to hurt you and hacking our system and now abduction of an innocent… They’re turning out to be just like the Shredder, if not worse.”

April chewed on his bottom lip, nodding but still appearing apologetic for the comments. She turned her attention back to her master and resumed her initial sentence.

“Master Splinter, I know this entire scheme is to get to me, but I can’t stay still… It feels wrong to just stay inactive while my dad is held captive like this. I want to go back to my apartment to look clues as to where dad could be right now, to search for him right now, but then again, I don’t want to fall into their obvious trap and cause more troubles for you. But if I do what the clones want, I’ll just give the Foot more power over you. My DNA is a weapon! It can really hurt the guys and… It’s just, it’s hard to choose which course of action I should take and… I feel so…useless.”

“Not useless, April. Powerless for the moment, yes, but never useless. And trust me when I say I understand your situation, my student. For I myself experienced my fair share of such sentiments of helplessness, especially when I was torn between two paths presented to me, one of ancestral origin that upheld traditions first and foremost above all else, and the other of a promised future to come with a beloved,” answered the rat sagely, and at once, a faraway look of reminiscence entered his rich brown eyes, and his gaze turned unfocused for a brief second before they reclaimed the concentration and consciousness.

“Powerlessness is a powerful feeling that can influence even the most rational of minds into doing something against the most logical courses said minds could conceive. However, such recklessness brought about by desperation and lack of preparation will only result in nothing other than an utter catastrophe. So please, listen to what I say now, April, for I wish not for further harms to befall upon you any more than they already have.”

“Then, are we just supposed to be grounded until the sun comes down just to sneak back into April’s apartment to look for clues? That’s still hours away! Half a day away!” asked Casey impatiently, yet his whine distinctively lacked the sharp edge of annoyance that would surely make itself present had he been talking to anyone else other than Master Splinter. His expression, on the other hand, failed to follow what his voice had set example of. As he spoke, a rather prominent frown formed on his face, reflecting his displeasure at the thought of being grounded all of the sudden.

Raphael chose this moment to cut in and spoke up, his voice gruff and annoyed, more so than previously, “Well, what do you expect? This ain’t Halloween, so we can’t exactly waltz down the streets in all of our mean green glory in the middle of daylight like everything’s cool and dandy and Bob’s your uncle and all that jazz.”   

The humans deflated, and both appeared as though the life had been sucked right out of them. The other turtles did not fare any better, for despite their desire to help, they were helpless as long as the sun shone above the city.

All of them, except one very busy genius whose eyes had yet to lift from their fixture upon the screen of his handheld device.

“Alright, successfully covered the distance, now into the building itself,” muttered Donatello in a rather absent-minded fashion as though the presence of others were lost to him. His fingers continued to press on the screen repeatedly, nonstop. Though his voice was nothing more than a soft murmur directed toward himself, the others did not fail to pick it up.

“Donnie?” asked Leo. Donatello looked up, and was immediately greeted by the curious gazes from the gathered family members. “Are you playing Feuds of Civilizations again? Now?” Leo added, somewhat bewildered.

The genius looked up and, as though humored despite himself, could not resist the urge to roll his eyes at that, so he did and added a rather undignified snort at the leader’s expense for good measure.

“Oh yes, Leo, my best friend’s father is missing and I’m just idly standing here trying to fortify my forts in a mind-numbing game whose creators apparently that don’t even know what exactly an ending is,” said the purple-banded ninja with an ironic smile that carried with it no small amount of sarcasm dripping from his eloquent tongue, the force of which could clearly be experienced and compared to that of a massive waterfall cascading below.  

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed,” Leo said back with a huff of his own, a slight displeased frown decorating his facial features.

“And where’s the fun in that?” replied the genius, the corners of his lips stretching outward a little, a gesture which was soon returned by the older ninja.

“What are you doing, exactly?” Leo said, changing the subject.

Donatello smiled broadly now, displaying his signature toothy grin for all to see, and for a moment, Leo had to turn away briefly – an act that unfortunately did not escape April’s eyes and sensitivity. Donatello seemed oblivious as he pressed a few more commands on his T-phone.

“Take out your phones, gentlemen… and lady,” he said to the others, “While you were talking, I managed to sneak a couple of my spy-roaches topside and now inside April’s house to do the spying and scanning for us. Having them cross the street took a bit longer than I expected, but I managed… somehow. I lost two cams, though. Poor Chang IX and V…”

“Wait, wait, wait, Donnie, time out for a sec here and rewind that part a bit if you don’t mind,” April spoke up and cut the genius off, her face conveying a clear rift between joy and disgust at the idea, as evidenced by the unsure twitches of her mouth, momentarily downward before moving toward the opposite direction and repeating the cycles altogether, “You… sent a remote controlled army of… infestation into my house?”

“Better question…” Casey chimed in, hiding a grin behind his hand, “You named your cockroaches _Chang_? With _numbers_?”

“…Uh…If I answer that this can help us search the crime scene for any clues left behind without us having to physically be there, will you still be mad? And Casey, they’re _codenames_ , okay. Like how Mikey named his kitty Ice-Cream Kitty.”

“'Cuse you, Don. At least she’s cute and edible, D., unlike your mini squishy peeping creepers,” the addressed turtle spoke up. “In fact, your choice of pets is… highly questionable and bizarre, but it’s a good way to repel a certain _Akaoni_ inside the lair, so I’m not complaining as much as I should be, dude.” He finished his sentence and shot Raphael a raised ridge. The other’s lips formed a perfect thin line, and his face blank, unimpressed.  

“For my father’s sake, Donnie, I’ll let it slide this time… But I hope for _my_ sake they’d better not lay any eggs in there…” April muttered, still slightly unnerved by the idea.

“Oh don’t worry about that, April, they’re all males.”

 Everyone then took out their respective T-phones to monitor the activities of the roaches. The small creatures roamed around the house, searching every nook and cranny of the place for anything that could clue the turtles in on the clones’ activities.

Leonardo checked the kitchen, Raph, begrudgingly but somewhat glad that he was seeing things through the perspective of the cockroach and not looking at the roach itself, got Mr. O’Neil’s bedroom, while Michelangelo got the bathroom to look over. April, naturally, checked her own bedroom, and the other guys never said anything against the unspoken threat left unspoken when she stated her choice. Last but not least, Donatello was in charge of searching for evidence in the living room where the message was located. 

Hardly five minutes had elapsed when Casey decided to forgo his lessons on patience and whined again. “This is too small, I can’t see anything. Don’t you have something like a tablet Don? T-blet?” He started, staring with narrowed eyes at April’s screen, for his replacement was still being made inside Donatello’s lab.

“No, that thing’s still on paper, and I’m short a few parts to make it secure and also Raph-slash-Mikey-proof. Wait a minute… Hey guys, I think I’ve got something here.” The turtle in purple cried, and at once, all eyes were upon him.

He zoomed in on the red message on the wall, and only then did they discover a slight discoloration, a lighter shade of pink compared to the more prominent shade of red that made up the letters. Upon closer inspection, there was a shade of white inside.

“What is that?” asked Raph, hovering and placing his head on top of Donnie’s head, much to the latter’s unspoken annoyance. With a grunt, Donatello answered, ignoring the momentarily unwelcome weight.

“Seems to be another letter attached to the wall, waiting for us to discover. They’re playing hide-and-seek, and now that we’re _tagged_ , we have to start the search for them at the same spot where they started out. Well… either that, or I know _myself_ pretty _well_.”

“Okay, now what? Have your roach do a karate chop and take the duct tape off that thing?” joked Raphael again, smirking.

“Why yes,” Donatello replied, and the laughter ceased. “With the others’ help, of course.”

Soon, the spy-roaches came together and with their combined might, they were able to get the tape off the back of the letter left behind, and the thing fell to the floor, allowing the others to see the contents written within, the words clearly shown on the camera and read aloud by Donatello.

“Dear DNAtors,

Your friend is safe and sound, at least for now,  
Outside Manhattan, there he can be found.  
The name of our dwelling is below  
So read with care and give us all a show:

Seven miles, up north, a glen is seen up there,  
Where lights are dead and wood as dark as night,  
Above, from left to right, six steps, then stare,  
The words are marked, be careful and you’ll find.  
And when the hands of time upon nine land,  
We shall await your coming for your friend.

Consider our invitation sent!  
Beneath the stark moonlights let us all dance!

Sincerely,  
Your Dark Halves”

As soon as his words died down, a moment of silence took reign as the members of the family exchanged glances of bewilderment for a moment.

“Man, these guys really love games, and they say I’m a sucker for those. What do you think, Leo? Any ideas where the place mentioned here at?” asked Michelangelo. Leonardo assumed a thoughtful look on his face, musing over the words, as he fetched a map of Manhattan and went over the possible locations in the northern area.  

“I think,” the leader began, “We need to look out for a place with a canyon…north of Manhattan…and it has to be seven miles away from the city. But if those guys are as mentally unstable as what we saw last night, I don’t think the instructions are meant to be taken literally.”

“Well,” Raph said beside his older brother, his eyes running through the dusted old map of the city sprawled in front of them, “Nothing’s coming up, Leo. Like you said, I don’t think this letter is even talking about a real glen,” Raph said but continued searching nonetheless. Still, nothing fitted the description mentioned came up.

The others, too, tried to study the map for anything that might be the possible hiding locations of the clones, and for the next minutes, everyone sat together and discussed the possibilities of different landscapes around, trying in vain to find the single place that had the same characteristics of the mentioned in the poem. Only Donatello sat still with his T-phone in his hand, running his eyes through the words printed on the letter over and over again, searching for clues hidden deep beneath the upper layers. He knew himself well, and using that knowledge to a possible extension, he could deduce that his cloned Doppler would be more or less the same, as evidenced by their previous conversation and implications made by the latter in his taunting, and if he would have to spend time making an instruction in this manner, it would not be as plain a day for all to see.

“Six steps…from left to right…” he mumbled.

“Hey Don!” shouted Raphael, annoyed once more, “We can use some brain power over here. And this one has your name written all over it, so mind getting your butt off the couch for a sec?”

Donatello closed his eyes and continued musing alone, effectively tuning out anything else that others were saying toward his position. Instead, he directed his attention within, and allowed his logical mind to roam freely in search of the single answer they all desired.

“Seven miles up north, that’s our spot. Glen…A canyon? No. Unlikely. What about the woods? The parks? No, the wood here is supposed to be dark, so maybe a place with lots of dead trees? Perhaps… or maybe not, ‘wood’ is in singular form, not plural, so only one tree then? Lights are dead, so no powers, no electricity, so it must be a secluded spot outside the city itself, an abandoned location of some sort… Six steps from left to right…From left to right…The words are marked…The words, from left to right, six steps…”

All of the sudden, Donatello opened his eyes and muttered the last part under his breath over and over again as though they had been made into some manner of mantra to be recited. A few seconds later, the turtle in purple suddenly sprang up, much to the bewilderment and confusion of the gathered, he exclaimed at the top of his lungs, excitement written all over his face and displayed in his body language.

“I’ve got it!”

“What?” shouted the others, except for Master Splinter, who only sat back and stroked his beard thoughtfully, his eyes watching his disciples with unwavering focus.

“Above, from left to right, six steps, then stare, the words are marked, be careful and you’ll find,” Donatello repeated before rushing onward with his explanation, “The place is already mentioned in the letter, and the answers, the ‘ _words’_ are marked. ‘Above, from left to right, six steps’ refers to the number of words in the two lines that begin the clue. The sixth words of the two lines above!”

“Glen…Wood,” Leo tried, and at once, his eyes lit up as realization was upon him at last, “Glenwood!”

“Yes,” Donatello agreed and carried on with his explanation, “And seven miles up north of Manhattan, there’s one place with that name where, literally, ‘lights are dead’.” He then pulled up an image of a location to the front of his screen and showed them to everyone around.

“Abandoned Glenwood Power Plant… No electricity, no light,” Michelangelo read and widened his eyes. “D., your brain is awesome!” he exclaimed excitedly and even hugged the genius in a spontaneous burst of joy, rubbing his own cheek against the taller turtle affectionately.

Donatello’s cheeks immediately turned a shade redder, and from his peripheral vision, he could also spot Leonardo and Raphael shooting him and Michelangelo looks of dubious and indiscernible significance.  However, when he turned around to meet their gaze, the two older ninjas looked away, directing their attention toward the map on the table.

“Alright, gang,” Leonardo spoke up, using his leader tone which he had been for a while attempting to perfect in order to make himself more authoritative (the efforts of which, as to be excepted, never amounted to anything much, and were even chiefly ignored by his brothers unless the situations truly demanded their utmost seriousness). “We have to get ready for tonight, and from the last lines, it seems we are expected there at nine o’clock sharp. So make haste, people!”

The others exchanged a brief look for a few seconds, before they all hurriedly got up and got the Shellraiser as well as the supplies they needed ready for the upcoming journey ahead. They had to be certain that everything they needed was ready, and they would set out for the designated location as soon as the sun disappeared behind the horizon.  
  


	23. A New Possibility

Preparations for the upcoming battle were swiftly made as every turtle and human available roamed about the lair’s various chambers, minding their own business to while away the time they had left. Weapons had been readied, equipments had been loaded in place, a plan had been conjured up and agreed upon by every member of the team, and only two hours later, everything was done, ready for departure the exact moment darkness took over the horizon afar. The only things left were getting the Shellraiser tuned up for the night’s skirmish and getting some of April’s DNA samples as a potential bargaining chip in April’s stead in case things would turn awry (and according to Leonardo’s prediction, things indeed would).  Both of these jobs fell on the resident scientist’s job descriptions, and thus, Donatello and April stayed inside the lair. At the same time, Master Splinter had summoned Casey into the dojo for a private training session aimed at preparing him for what was to follow later that day, with Michelangelo joining in as the boy’s sparring partner.

“From what you told me, it took the combined efforts of the two of you to fight on equal footing with Michelangelo’s clone. That means the clone is highly dangerous in combat, and you two must be prepared, both physically and mentally for the upcoming battle. So come, and no protest,” Master Splinter had said, in a tone that had been sagely and calm, almost eerily so, before calling the two young warriors into the dojo, an order which they had reluctantly yet ultimately adhered.

Raphael and Leonardo lounged in the living room, whiling away the time with their usual activities – watching TV and reading magazines. Yet, they soon realized that their attention would not be taken by such leisure. Their pretense of focus could only last less than five minutes before Raphael, in his true impatient fashion, tossed the edition aside and leaned back, a slight grumbling noise escaping his throat as he crossed both hands behind his head and directed his eyes toward the ceiling, staring at nothing in particular.

“Something on your mind?” asked Leonardo as he turned to face the other, having been broken out of his ruse as well by the subtle noise shredding the silence apart.

“Just stuff,” replied Raphael, shrugging yet not meeting his leader’s eyes.

“That’s vague.”

“Well, if you must know, I’m just thinking about tonight and how I should bash those clones’ heads into their shells for what they did to our friends. Satisfied?” Raphael replied, his voice rough.

“Okay, Raph,” Leonardo, experienced in observing his brothers’ behavior, quickly realized that something was bugging the hot-tempered turtle aside the obvious. Refusal to make eye contacts, unconscious fiddling of his fingers, restless tapping of his foot against the floor in a random fashion, tossing his magazine aside and employing the infamous cranky ‘Raph’s Talk’ which Mikey had named several years past… All the signs pointed to one thing, and Leonardo concluded that Raph was anxious about something.

The gears within the perceptive leader’s mind began to turn at a rapid pace, and while not possessing the genius intellect of Donatello, Leonardo was undeniably intelligent in his own right and more perceptive than his brothers most of the time. Raphael was anxious, he had concluded, yet the hothead, who always seemed to possess an undying passion for fighting could not possibly be anxious about a fight.

Worry for Mr. O’neil’s wellbeing and April’s safety… ‘ _Most probably even if he does not say it aloud,’_ Leo mused as he privately glanced at his brother, who had just turned his gaze downward. It was then that Leonardo noticed that Raphael turned his head toward the lab’s door before turning around to look at the closed dojo. The actions lasted only a split second – so fast that it would have gone unnoticed if Leonardo had not been paying attention, but he had. It took the leader only but a few seconds to deduce what else it was that was currently vexing his brother’s mind.

“Are you jealous of Donnie and April’s alone time again?” asked Leonardo bluntly with something akin to a humored smirk, which he had truly attempted to conceal, breaking across his beak. That offhand enquiry effectively made Raphael’s head snap to the turtle in blue. Green eyes widened momentarily before returning to their narrowed, annoyance-laced state.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Leonardo was one step quicker, interrupting him with a raised palm. “Don’t even try to deny it, Raph,” said he with a teasing note hidden behind the neutrality of his voice.

“Oh now you’re a mind reader as well, huh! Ain’t that just great!” Raphael grumbled and crossed his hands before his chest – an unconscious defensive mechanism he performed when he knew he was caught but felt too prideful to admit it.

“I don’t need to be one because I’ve lived with each and every one of you since we were children. I know how you behave and… well, at least most of the time, I’d like to think I do,” the older of the duo answered. His voice was neutral still, but the corners of his lips stretched a fraction wider. Raphael groaned in response.

“In any case, there’s no shame in admitting that, you know,” Leonardo, at the silence of the other, spoke up again.

“I’m not feeling jealous, and what do you mean by _again_?” replied Raphael with a heated glare.

“Last night, tunnel, you blew up at Donnie and April for being late. You’re impatient, but not _that_ inpatient, Raph. Even Mikey noticed. And I think I hovered around Donnie more just to spite you,” was all that Leonardo said, which only served to annoy Raphael even further. The latter spoke up once more after a brief moment of silence, but his voice this time was noticeably softer than before, quieter, deliberately lowered to avoid being eavesdropped. “I’m not,” he began, but his words did not possess the same conviction and vehemence as before, “It’s just… It’s just that…”

“It’s just…” Leonardo prompted as he leaned away from the TV and closer to his brother. Raphael’s glare grew more intense, but he said nothing. Noticing that, Leonardo, with some efforts, quickly wiped the smirk off his face. “You remember what Donnie said to us, right?”

“Like you’re not worried,” Raphael muttered, looking down at his feet and resting his cheek against his palm.

“Honestly, I’m not,” replied the blue-clad turtle. In an instant, Raphael’s head snapped sideway once more, staring at his older brother with a bewildered expression. “What?” he asked, voice a whisper.

“Donnie said he loved us, and I trust him as much as I trust his words. That’s that. End of story,” Leonardo answered simply as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it truly was.

“But… But it’s April in there with him!” Raphael leaned in closer and gestured toward the lab, his face contorted in a frown. “You know how long he’s had that stupid crush on her? And you know what, she’s a girl! A pretty one at that! What if…”

“I’m gonna have to stop you right there, Raph. Like I said, I trust him, as I trust all of you and every word each and every one of you say when you’re _serious_. Donnie gave me his word that he loved us and only us, then that’s more than enough proof for me. Besides, it’s the lack of trust that caused the original misunderstanding, so I’m not about to repeat the same mistake again and cause this team to get divided again.”

A moment of silence loomed for a few minutes as the two turtles engaged in a staring contest. Green eyes locked with blue ones, and neither side refused to back down, their respective gaze steadfast and resolute. This tension would continue for a few more minutes before it was dispelled by a sigh of resignation that came from, surprisingly, Raphael.

“You’re right,” he said with a shake of his head and plopped his cheek right on top of his palm again. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Leonardo only chuckled at this admission. He was about to return to his flick, but his eyes once again caught the same pensive expression lingering on his brother’s face. Raphael was still sitting with his hands crossed, appearing guarded, and his focus was still spent on a certain spot on the floor. With another sigh, Leonardo lowered the volume even further and turned back to regard Raphael again.

“What else is bothering you?” he asked, as bluntly as the last time. The other groaned.

“What kind of mind-reading alien are you and what have you done to Leo?” he retorted, huffing in blatant annoyance at the older turtle, who simply rolled his eyeballs playfully in response.

“Hey, it’s rare for us to have some moment alone to chat like this, so I’m taking advantage of it. But if you don’t want to talk about it, then fine,” replied Leonardo sincerely, his voice soft and gentle. However, the softness was quickly whisked away as the leader employed a lower yet obviously more conniving tone, one which he would use whenever he wished for something to go exactly the way he wanted, “But think about it for a second. Relationship problems can be problematic, and usually, you need to talk to someone else about your doubts and insecurities.”

“So?” asked Raph, frowning.

“So, if you have a problem you don’t know how to deal with, it’s obvious that you need to consult someone if only to relieve the stress of bearing it,” at this point, a rather devious smile broke across the leader’s face, and Raphael mentally cringed yet outwardly remained indifferent, “Now… Imagine talking to _Master_ _Splinter_ about advice on how to deal with your hormonal _relationship_ _problems_ with your _adopted_ _brothers_ …”     

“Okay! Okay! Stop! Bleh! My mind can’t take that kind of abuse. Just… just stop it, Leo… Sweet merciful goodness, just no… Heavens, no! He’s gonna be worse than whatever Shredhead can think of, telling old stories and all the educational tales of dead chumps and blah! No, just no!”

Leonardo, however, ignored his pleads and went on with his speech, “And I’m not so sure about you talking to either Donnie or Mikey, will be the most comfortable experience for any one of you to sit through for the most obvious of reasons. Donnie’s still not exactly one with… uh… _experience_ on this matter in this household, and Mikey won’t be able to sit still for a prolonged period of time and…”

“And plus, he’s an airhead most of the time, so serious words thrown his way would be like water washing against a warthog’s backside. That and the fact that I ain’t giving him more reasons to bust my chops,” said Raphael with a shake of his head.

“Yes…  April and Casey don’t know about that stuff yet, so they’re definitely off the list. So that leaves _me_ in the end. I’m pretty much the only one you can talk to, and I’m pretty much the only one who you won’t feel _that_ _much_ embarrassed to talk to seeing as you and I both know whatever happens between us stays between us.”

“Like how loud you _screamed_ last night?” Raphael taunted with a smug smirk at his brother’s expense, causing Leonardo’s serene expression to momentarily go sour before it returned to normal.

With a firm tone of voice, the leader asked, “Am I right or am I right?”

Raphael begrudgingly nodded his head, but the scowl he wore upon his visage refused to drop. Through clenched teeth, he muttered a muffed “Yes,” before turning away, avoiding eye contact with Leonardo’s eyes. Another bout of silence fell on them, partially chased away by the occasional high-pitched exclamations and yelps coming from behind the closed dojo.  

“So?” Leonardo, not waiting for the other to take the initiative any longer, prompted, but he still maintained his distance at the end of the sofa.

“Promise you won’t tell any soul or laugh,” Raphael replied at long last, and had he not been wearing his bandana, his beak would have been a delicious shade of red as fierce as the color of his preference. Leonardo wanted to comment on that, but he did not, refusing to shatter the delicate moment when his hothead brother was finally opening himself and sharing his genuine thoughts with him. Thus, as patiently as he could, he remained seated where he was and waited for Raphael to begin.

Raphael did so minutes later after he had gathered his thoughts.

“After the day Don confessed a few days ago,” he began, finger twitching nervously around each other, “I… I was happy, okay. But right now, I’m having a bit of a dilemma.”

“Oh?” Leonardo whispered, but said nothing else.

“Yeah… Like in the past, it was only you, me and Mikey, so… it wasn’t like any of us could get into any kind of… _serious_ relationship with each other, since you and I fought all the time, which we still do if last night was any indication, over who should get a turn with Mikey first. But now that Don’s entered the picture and the number is even… I just thought that… well…”

“I see,” Leonardo muttered, comprehension dawning on his facial expression like morning sunlight chasing away the darkness of the lingering night. “You want us to be more than just partners in bed,” he continued, but failed to keep the slight discoloration from appearing across his beak, which stood in stark contrast with his cool-shaded mask.

“Something like that… Yeah… Don’t get me wrong, the plays are all great and all, but, you know… If we just do what we’re doing then… we’re not going anywhere, just four teens taking turns screwing around with each other. You get it?” Raphael admitted at last, and Leonardo could do nothing more than offer a nod in understanding. He sat still and let the words sink in. Mentally, he also agreed that with Donnie entering the picture, it changed practically everything, and the possibility of having a true partner – a real mate – was more possible than ever before. No more sharing turns, no more fighting over who got to go first, just two couples…

However, that possibility along with the fantasies and grandeurs it could possibly bring also presented yet another dilemma for them.

“So,” the leader began, trying to keep up his solemn act, yet he knew that he was not being convincing at the moment, and he had a feeling that Raphael knew that as well, judging from the split-second grin that adorned his face when their eyes locked. “Ahem… This is gonna be awkward, but, uh, Mikey or Donnie?”

“That’s _the_ problem,” Raphael, after a moment of thinking, said, albeit with much reluctance on his part. “I don’t know, and I’m not sure if they feel the same way I do. But mostly, I can’t choose between them, like at all! I mean, Mikey, you know how he is, affectionate and huggy and all that, and the noises he makes are…”

“Alright, alright, I get it, skip that part. I’d like to stay as sane as can be until after the rescue mission tonight. So no need to go into detailed descriptions, please.”

“Yeah, so…you know how Mikey is: not shy, like at all. I used to be annoyed by that, but for the last couple of days of seeing him with us… it’s kinda…adorable and endearing… But tell him I said that and I’ll dunk you in the furthest sewer I can find, get it?”

Leonardo, despite his blushing, smirked and nodded his head, the index finger of his right hand animatedly drawing a cross over his heart and his other hand running an invisible zipper over his lips.

“And Donnie,” Raphael, satisfied with his brother’s response, carried on, “He’s just… so…urgh! I can’t even describe it. He’s adorable in a dorky kind of way, okay! Adorkable and all that with his mumbling and rambling, and the blowjobs he gave from that brainiac mouth were...”

At this point, a pillow flew straight into Raphael’s face, cutting him off immediately. Leonardo, whose face was exponentially redder than before as it was painted with a coral shade of crimson capable of rivaling the most intense sunsets over the Arizona’s desert plains, frowned heavily and shot the red-banded ninja with a warning glare.

“ _No_. Descriptions. _Please_! Our sanity is at stake here,” said the leader in blue, placing a heavy emphasis on the last word. Raphael readily returned the gesture, but held his tongue from lashing out.

“So, yeah,” he carried on with the main topic of the discussion, “That’s what’s troubling me right now. And if _I, Raphael Hamato,_ am having these…” he stopped and shuddered before resuming, “urgh, _feelings_ … then it won’t be long before anyone else begins to do the same. Heck, you probably feel the same now, don’t cha, Leo?”

“No comment,” was the diplomatic reply he received from the oldest turtle.

“Seriously, what are you?” Raphael huffed, rolling his eyeballs in an exasperated manner at the response, “Running for Senator? ‘No comment?’ Seriously? That’s the biggest pile of bull I’ve heard so far coming from you, Leo.”

Leonardo, twitching his fingers ever so subtly in the face of the jab, opened his mouth with a sarcastic retort ready at the tip of his tongue, yet before he was able to vocalize his witty comeback, he was unexpectedly cut off when the door of the dojo suddenly flung open, and one Casey Jones lied on the floor, groaning pitifully.

Curious eyes then looked at Michelangelo, who was now standing at the open entrance of the dojo with a small cringe upon his face, seemingly torn between humor and guilt, though it was clear to Leonardo and Raphael that the former greatly outweighed the latter, if that sneaky little upward twitch at the corner of his lips was any indication.

“What the heck?” Raphael wondered aloud, darting his eyes between his brother and his human best friend, who was just beginning to gather himself up from the floor, albeit with minor difficulties.

At this question, Michelangelo had the decency to scratch his head in an awkward manner and chuckled nervously, avoiding eye contact with Master Splinter, whose overwhelming aura was virtually impossible to miss, and a little ominous for anyone’s liking.

“Mikey?” asked Leonardo.

“Yeah… I kinda… went overboard with him during our practice,” the orange-banded ninja admitted.

“So basically,” Raphael spoke up this time, turning his attention to the human, who was massaging his rear end and wincing at every touch. He could not help but allow a small smile of humor to form on his face, and in a voice filled with a dark sense of humor, the red-banded ninja continued, “ _The_ Casey Jones got his butt kicked.”

“Hey!” replied the hockey player with a scandalized expression, glaring at his mutant best friend, “For your information, I meant to do that! I let him hit me on purpose to… uh… gauge his strength, that’s it! To test his strength only! Nobody kicks Casey Jones around. And now that I know how strong my opponent is, I’m gonna win the next round! Get your shell ready for a kicking, Freckles!”

“Oh, you’re on, dude!”

With that declaration, the boys stormed back into the dojo. Master Splinter said nothing to either stop or encourage their competitive behavior. Instead, he simply nodded his head and closed the door after the teenagers. A brief moment of silence stretched out for a few seconds before a cluster of miscellaneous noises came from the dojo once more, mixed with lots chants of “Gongala!” and “Booyakasha!”          

  “Well, what do you know, there goes my mood,” Raphael said after a while longer as he picked up the discarded magazine and flipped through the page, his eyes fixed on the pictures of the latest bikes that were etched upon them. He had made his point clear, and Leonardo, realizing that, turned up the volume of his show again. Not another word was spoken between the two brothers from that point on.

…

Inside the lab, Donatello and April were going over the usual procedure of obtaining the latter’s DNA samples.

“Are you sure those clones are going to accept these instead of taking me?” asked April, her voice showing nothing but sheer skepticism, which Donatello never failed to pick up on. Eyes still fixed on his needle, the scientist replied, his voice calm and neutral.

“To be honest, no,” said he, and April sighed expectantly, “But I suppose we won’t know until we try to at least negotiate with them. If they did accept the proposal, then it would be great, but if not… Your DNA can be used to synthesize a Retro-mutagen-based weapon against them. I may have enough leftover materials to make something useful; some projectiles that is. Even if these shots can’t completely nullify their mutation, they can at least cause some pain, incapacitate them momentarily and buy us enough time to make our escape with your father in tow. Still, I need a couple of hours.”

“And what is our chance of success? You know, of convincing them to give my dad back for five tubes of my DNA samples,” asked April again, wincing slightly as the tiny sting of the needle pierced her flesh.

“That would be lower than 2%, don’t ask me where I pulled the number from,” answered Donatello with a humorless chuckle as he put the extracted blood sample into a tube for safekeeping. “They’re like us in some ways, so they may be able to see reasons, but I wouldn’t place too much hope on that. They’re crazy and downright malicious and sadistic if last night was any proof, and from what little I’ve seen – stalking, kidnapping, extortion, arson, etcetera etcetera, they have no moral compass of any sort, no sense of honor at all, so I doubt words alone will be able to make them budge in their resolve. That’s why I’m placing my chips on plan BGM.”

“Plan what now?” asked the girl, one eyebrow raised and head tilted to one side in bewilderment.

“BGM - Blast, Grab and Make off,” answered Donatello with a toothy grin flashed at her direction before he went back to work. April chuckled, humored somewhat by the silly notion conceived by someone of genius intellect. With a soft shake of her head and a giggle, she said, innocently.  

“Mikey’s rubbing off on you.”

Donatello’s back went rigid for a moment before the meaning of that statement finally dawned on him, making his posture ease again.

“Y-Yeah…” Donatello said, chuckling a bit, “I guess he is…” he then cleared his throat and turned away, attempting to appear normal.

Unfortunately, his ruse came a second too late, for April had spotted the peculiar behavior which had been incited by seemingly nothing at all. Still, for the time being, she said nothing, and just sat back, watching her best mutant friend at work in his element.   

Donatello then raised a small gun-like device up in the air for inspection. The device resembled a small, ordinary-looking needle gun, but its specially crafted dart-like bullets contained Retro-mutagen inside. From where she was sitting, she could see that there were only seven shots available, waiting to be filled with the anti-clone substance Donatello was trying to make.   

The two friends stayed still amid the veil of silence with the only noises elicited came from the tick-tocks of the clock along with the sounds of Donatello’s tools. While it was not the uncomfortable type, it still made Donatello slightly unnerved when he knew that he was being watched very closely by April’s piercing blue eyes. A few months ago, that would have caused his heart to beat wildly out of all control and his face to go aflame, but now, only the former happened, and not for the original reason by which the reaction had once been enticed. At the moment, he was nervous, unnerved by the empathy with whom he was sharing his lab.

Master Splinter had said that April’s mental training was proceeding wondrously, and that left a big question unanswered for the genius, a question which he dared not ask himself, even if such a thing was conducted within his own mindscape.

_‘Can she find out what we’re hiding with her psychic power before we can explain to her and Casey?’_

April said nothing as she noticed a slight shiver which swept across Donatello’s still frame. She remained seated in her chair, staring and staring owlishly like a predator would a potential prey, studying his every reaction to her deliberate antics, his every subtle twitch of the finger from her sidelong perspective, his every out-of-place movement she could find in his rigid posture and trying to figure what he was hiding behind the faulty mask of ignorance he was donning.

Time continued to tick away, lazily so, as the two occupants of the lab focused on what they were doing - one staring and one working.  The silence, now thicker than before, went on and on, until at long last, Donatello was the first to shatter the veil of tranquility with a feigned cough.

“May I help you, April?” he asked, calm and collected. His voice betrayed nothing, and his eyes held the same sincerity and friendliness that he had always displayed – traits which she admired about him. Outwardly, Donatello was completely normal as far as the naked eyes could perceive. Unfortunately for him, April could perceive someone or something with a sixth sense which bypassed the tricks that could be conducted to deceive what the eyes could see.

She had spotted his well-concealed nervousness. It was there, almost nonexistent and barely enough for her to feel, yet definitely there. Still, she did not jump straight into the heart of the problem yet.

“Nothing, Don,” said the girl. “I was just admiring your work as always. It never ceases to amaze me that you can make the most random pieces of junk come together to form a device that could rival any big corps out there in the world.”

“Well,” replied the genius, blushing a bit at the sudden compliment and looking away for a moment in bashfulness, “You know me, lots and lots of practice before, so I suppose I’m used to this.”

“Still,” April replied, shrugging and leaning closer, her eyes narrowed somewhat as they stared directly into the reddish brown orbs on the opposite side, “I just can’t help but be blown away and wonder just… exactly _what kind of thoughts_ and ideas you’re thinking in that genius brain of yours.”

Silence set in once more. Donatello’s face remained neutral still. A soft, amiable smile was still adorning his lips, and his posture was unchanged by the statement.

As easily as could be, Donatello’s smile widened, revealing his signature gap between his teeth. In a jovial voice, he responded.

“Oh, lots and lots of ideas for the improvements of the lair and gadgets for our patrols and other things. If you want to know, I’ll _gladly_ tell you one day if we have some peaceful time alone together in the future, and when I’m done sorting things out first. It’s still a messy pigsty up here at the moment so to speak,” he finished with a chuckle and softly tapped a finger at his temple.

The two best friends continued to lock eyes with one another for a while longer before April nodded her head in acceptance.

“Alright, I’ll hold you to your words then. I’d love to know more about those things when everything has come to pass,” said she with a smile as she leaned back against her backrest.

In response, Donatello simply hummed and nodded before he turned his attention back to the worktable once more, hands moving with great precision over the tools scattered around the tabletop with practiced ease. The lab was once again drowned in silence as the two occupants sat still on their chairs, this time quietly and contently enjoying each other’s company as the hands of time continued to tick away.                 


End file.
